Flaws of Attraction
by ShadowsOnTheMoon
Summary: "Tragic love story, isn't it?" she asks scathingly. At first he thinks she's mocking him, but then he realizes that isn't the case. She's mocking herself. "Being in love with someone who you know will never love you back. You get together, you think you'll be okay. You think, hey, maybe this will be my happy ending. But it's not. There are no happy endings."
1. Rumor Seduction

**So this is something I've been working on for a few days, and I'm excited to share it with you guys. I'm not sure how long it will be; probably less than 20K words.**

**Some things to note before you read: this is not a happy story. If you're looking for fluff or a happy ending, look elsewhere. This story is dark, and mentions sensitive subjects like rape and suicide. So please take care reading it, okay?**

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_Is it worth your while to spend on a lie  
even though you cannot see eye to eye,  
and give in to the rumor seduction,  
run by fear and all the good intentions?_

_- Rewind, Poets of the Fall _

**February 14th**

She sits in the interrogation room, unmoving, barely breathing. Her eyes are locked on the table in front of her, as if the glazed wood will give her the answers that the world has denied her. She doesn't look up when the police officer walks into the room, a folder in one hand and a mug of coffee in the other. He sets these both down on the table in front of her, perfectly parallel to each other, and sits down across from her. He taps his pen on the table; three short raps, pause, repeat. Seemingly unaware of her movements, her arm jerks out and she grabs the pen. Without looking at him she tosses it on the floor. He doesn't seem fazed.

"You know why you're here, of course," he says conversationally, flipping open the folder. When she doesn't answer he leans back and takes a sip of the coffee, then pulls a face and carefully puts the mug back down. "Vending machine stuff. Tastes like crap."

This was apparently said for humor, but she doesn't notice. She hasn't even blinked since he entered the room. He's encountered the strong-silent type before. He's also encountered the I-know-I'm-guilty-and-I'm-not-talking-without-my-l awyer type. She doesn't seem like either of those. In fact, he's not sure she can even hear him. She seems worlds, dimensions, away.

"I'm going to have to ask you a few questions," he tries, hoping for a response. Nothing. "We found you outside a gas station an hour ago. Do you remember what happened?"

At this she closes her eyes, whether to remember the event more clearly or to try to repress it he's not sure. But it's movement at least, so he uses this momentum to propel the conversation.

"You were somewhat… incoherent," he says, picking his words carefully. "Although you did keep repeating one name over and over again. Do you remember what it was?"

Her eyes flutter open, but she doesn't look at him. She looks at the blood that's dried under her nails, at the dirt smeared across her palm. She opens her mouth like she's about to say something, but nothing comes out aside from a slight whimper. She closes her mouth again and absently flicks some dried blood off her hand.

"Listen, I know this is all probably confusing," he says gently. "You've been through something traumatic, and often that can make people reluctant to talk. You go into shock, you retreat into yourself, and you shut the world away. But I can't help you if you don't tell me what happened. Or even if you remember what happened. Do you remember?"

She hesitates, and then, ever so slightly, she nods.

Encouraged by this tiny triumph, he urges, "Can you tell me what happened?"

She takes a deep breath, then folds her arms around herself, looking suddenly very small. But there's a hard glint in her eyes, like embers on charcoal. She turns her eyes on him, meeting his gaze with such a fierce look that he almost flinches.

"My name is Spencer Jill Hastings," she says softly, her voice slightly hoarse. "And I just killed someone."

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**What did you think? Interested in reading more?**


	2. September 12

**Well hey everyone, thank you so much for the reviews! I didn't expect it to get such a good response, and so quickly too, so thanks for making my day. I'd intended for this story to originally be one chapter, but it's becoming rather longer than I anticipated so I guess I'll just publish each scene as a separate chapter. They'll all be pretty short (less than a thousand words), but I hope it doesn't seem too choppy or anything. Please keep reviewing and let me know what you think. :)**

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**September 12th**

"I got the class I wanted!" Aria came bouncing up, waving a piece of paper that declared in bold letters that she had, in fact, been accepted into the highly competitive Art class she'd been on the waiting list for.

Spencer grinned, wrapping her arms around her friend. "Congratulations!"

"Well done, Aria," Hanna said, doing a good job of masking her jealousy; she'd been rejected from every college she applied to, even her safety, and was currently working part-time as a waitress. She hated it, but she kept up a brave face for her friends.

"Yeah, that's great," Emily added, slinging her towel around her neck. Not only had she been accepted to the college, she'd been awarded a full swimming scholarship. She'd been training since before classes even started, and the coach had told her that if she worked hard enough she might even make captain one day. Spencer could swear that Emily's cheeks had been flushed with excitement for three days now because of that.

"What classes are you taking, Spence?" Aria asked.

Spencer handed over her timetable. She'd been given early entry, so she'd already done a semester of college. Her classes were more difficult this semester – even the titles would be enough to bore most people to tears. But she was a Hastings, and she thrived on challenges.

"Wow," Emily said, reading over Aria's shoulder. "Those look pretty tough."

"Tough? One of them has a fifty percent failure rate, and this other one here has a thirty percent dropout rate," Spencer said, laughing a little. She was nervous, of course, but she was also excited. These classes would be ten times as hard as high school, and one of them was more advanced than anything Melissa had done in her first year – that alone was reason enough to embrace the challenge.

"Well, I'll leave you to it, Miss Brainy," Hanna said, gathering up her things and getting to her feet. "I've got a double shift followed by dinner with my mom. Look at me, living the good life."

She winked, letting them know she wasn't _too_ bitter about it, and headed off.

"I've got some time before my next class," Spencer said, sliding a sleek black headband into her hair. It matched her smart-casual outfit: a black skirt that fell to her knees, a crisp white blouse, black ballet flats, and latticed black stockings. Her style hadn't changed much since high school, aside from becoming a little more mature. "I can show you guys around if you want?"

"Thanks," Emily said, running a hand through her chlorine-bleached hair, "but I have a swim team meeting in ten minutes. Coach is going to make us swim about a hundred laps just to see if we can."

She laughed, hoisting her duffel bag onto her shoulder, and waved to them as she walked off.

"I'd love a tour," Aria said, slipping her hand into Spencer's and looking up at her with her doe eyes.

A slow smile spread across Spencer's face. "I was so hoping you'd say that."

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	3. A Few More Questions

**Come on guys, one review for the last chapter? Give me something to go on. The more reviews I get, the quicker I'll update. Special thanks to Lax for your review last chapter, and thanks everyone who's reviewed, followed, and/or favorited. :) This is possibly my favorite chapter, so please review and let me know what you think!**

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**February 14****th**

Detective McDonald stands outside the interrogation room, holding a cup of coffee he'd managed to convince one of the interns to get from the place across the street.

"Has she said anything else?" the man beside him asks.

The detective shakes his head. "She knows who she is, and she thinks she killed someone - the body we found her with… but to be honest, I'm not sure she knows what's going on."

"She confessed, though," his partner reminds him. "What more evidence do we need?"

McDonald watches Spencer through the one-way glass. She's slumped in her chair, wordlessly mouthing something that's probably either a confession or a prayer. After she'd confessed she'd shrunk back into herself and refused to look at him. With the way they'd found her, there was little doubt in his mind that she'd done it. But what was getting to him was _why_. She was a bright girl. Studying journalism at college, one of the top-ranked field hockey players in the state. What could have possessed her to do something so horrible?

He claps his partner, Delaney, on the shoulder, and goes back into the interrogation room. To his surprise Spencer glances up at him, but then her eyes cloud over and she resumes staring at the floor.

"Miss Hastings," he says gently, closing the door and leaning against it, "do you mind if I ask you a few more questions?"

He doesn't want to alarm her. She's got that look in her eyes, like a wild animal you've got cornered, and you never know if it's going to turn on you or start tearing itself apart in its desperate bid to escape. He waits by the door for her response, not wanting to go any closer in case she starts feeling really trapped.

She shrugs. It's not exactly a warm invitation, but it's not an outright refusal. He cautiously goes over to her, keeping his movements smooth and slow. She doesn't move as he takes his seat across from her, and only gives him a quick look as he opens the folder. He decides to go for a more personal approach.

"It says here you're studying journalism," he says lightly, indicating the page in his folder. "I was actually considering journalism, before I ended up on the force. It's an interesting career, from what I can tell. Are you enjoying it?"

This comment makes her drag her attention away from the mosaic-patterned carpet. She gives him a withering look, as if wondering why in the hell he'd be talking about such trivial things given what's just happened. He feels like a desert plant under a scalding sun, but he forces himself not to look away.

"When we found you at the gas station," he says, watching her eyes for any flicker of recognition, "you kept shouting something. Someone's name. Do you remember what it was?"

She clears her throat and then mumbles something inaudible.

"Sorry?" he says. He'd had a feeling she remembered the name, and if she did, maybe she knew the story behind it, the reason she'd been screaming it as the police dragged her away from the body.

She looks away, focusing on something beyond his shoulder. For a second he has the horrible feeling that she's going to smile, but then she turns back to him and says softly, "Aria."

"Aria," he repeats. The name doesn't sound familiar to him. "Who is she?"

Spencer's lower lip trembles and tears spring to her eyes, making McDonald wonder if he's just asked something unforgivable or inappropriate. Tears trickle down her face, and she makes no effort to wipe them away. She lowers her gaze again and gives her reply, so quietly that he has to lean forward to hear her.

"She was my everything."

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	4. September 15

**As always, read and review. I love knowing what you guys think. :)**

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**September 15th**

"Come on, _please_?"

Spencer looked up at the dark-haired girl who was busily trying to beguile her into attending some kind of dorm party, and temporarily forgot how to breathe. Aria was wearing a short red dress that showed off her figure, her hair swept into an elegant bun, a dazzling smile stuck on her face. Everything in Spencer – except for that tiny logical voice in the back of her head, but she rarely listened to that – was screaming at her to say yes.

She swallowed. "Aria, I have -"

"Don't you dare say you have work to do," Aria said warningly. She stood up, quickly crossed the room, and sat down beside Spencer, so close the other girl could smell her perfume, something delicate and exotic. Spencer inhaled as deeply as she could without being obvious. "You've been working flat-out all week. You deserve a break."

"I have this paper due on Monday," Spencer protested, gesturing to the mountain of paperwork in front of her.

"You can work on it tomorrow," Aria said. Then she added with a cheeky grin, "Besides, you've probably already written it and you'd only spend tonight perfecting it anyway. You're _Spencer_, after all."

Something about the way she said her name sent shivers down Spencer's spine. She stood up abruptly, on the pretence of needing to get a stapler from her desk. "I suppose I could take a night off from studying," she allowed at last.

"Yes!" Aria leapt from the bed, caught up in a jolt of excitement. She grabbed Spencer's hand and dragged her over to the closet, flung it open, and started pulling out dresses and skirts and throwing them on the bed. "How about this?"

She held up a dress that was very short and slightly transparent. Spencer grabbed it and shoved it back in the closet. It had been Melissa's; she'd only intended on wearing it to bed. She didn't want anyone else to see her in it. Aria pouted and returned to her search. After discarding what Spencer felt was most of her wardrobe, she produced a dress that Spencer hadn't even realised she owned.

It was a deep blue, with a swooping neckline and some ruffles along the hem. It was shorter than what Spencer usually wore, but she didn't have time to consider it. Aria was already tossing a pair of shoes at her.

"Try this," Aria urged.

Spencer looked at her. Aria looked steadily back, and then she rolled her eyes.

"No peeking," Spencer said as Aria turned around.

"Wouldn't dream of it," Aria said, so softly Spencer thought she'd misheard.

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	5. How Long?

**As always, thanks for the follows, favorites, and reviews. Your interest and feedback is what keeps me writing.**

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**February 14th**

"You were in love with her?"

Spencer blinks at him, as if she's confused by the question. "No one's ever asked me that before," she says.

"But it's true, isn't it?" he prompts.

She nods. "I loved her with everything I had."

Her voice is steady, despite the tears that are still spilling down her face. He surveys her carefully. He's seen many people who claimed to be in love – it was a surprisingly common way people would try to throw blame away from themselves – and he's become skilled in being able to tell whether these declarations of love were true. All of the signs about this girl imply that she's not lying.

"How long?" he asks.

She doesn't need him to elaborate. "Three hundred eighty nine days," she says. "Tomorrow will be three hundred ninety."

Her certainty stirs something in him. He's forgotten what it's like to be so sure of your love for someone you don't even consider not loving them. He'd felt that, once, with his wife. Each day was just a chance to fall more in love with her. And here Spencer was, having been in love with this Aria girl for over a year… and still looking forward to the next day of loving her. He missed that feeling.

"Did you two ever date?" he asks.

He wonders why he's so interested. This investigation is about the body they found her with, not about her feelings for Aria, whoever she is. But he finds himself intrigued by the story, wanting to know how it ends. And she seems willing, although reluctant, to talk about it. Maybe if he can keep her talking long enough, she'll snap out of her state of shock and be able to tell her what happened tonight.

"We did."

She doesn't sound happy. If anything she sounds regretful. But if she'd loved her, why would she have regretted dating her? Suddenly something clicks. _She was my everything_. Was. As in, past tense. So either they'd broken up, or something even worse had happened.

"Yeah?" he says, hoping – but not expecting – that she'll volunteer more information. To his astonishment, she does.

"We were in a relationship for almost three months," Spencer says. "Not long after we started college, I admitted that I had feelings for her. I didn't expect anything to come out of it, but…"

"Something did," he says.

"Yeah." She brushes some hair back from her face, then lets her hand fall back onto her lap. She looks at it, rubbing a stain that's either dirt or blood. "She asked me out. I said yes, of course. I was thrilled."

"What happened then?"

She shrugs. "We dated."

There's something about her manner that just seems _off_. If she'd been as in love as she claimed, shouldn't she have expressed some joy at reliving the memory of her love asking her out?

He runs a hand along the edge of the desk, feeling the small nicks that witnesses and suspects had made over the years. If you dug your fingers hard enough into the wood it would leave a mark, and if you were left alone in the room you might chip at it until it formed a crack or a hole.

"But it didn't work out?" he says when it becomes clear Spencer isn't going to speak.

"I loved her," Spencer says, "but she never loved me."

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	6. October 3

**Sgdp1261 and Lax, thank you for your reviews as always. I'm really happy people are enjoying the story. I can't say the ending will be any happier than Fear Island, but fewer characters die... so I suppose that counts? :p**

**To 'A Fan': you are brilliant. I don't think you understand how much your review meant to me. It legitimately made my week. I'm very insecure about my writing, so to have someone give me such compliments is a huge boost. I'm also glad I could introduce you to Sparia - they're one of my top ships, and I think they're absolutely adorable. Do let me know what you think of my other story (and any other stories of mine that you read; I'm pretty much always working on some kind of PLL story). And feel free to get in touch if you ever feel like it; you seem like a lovely person. :)**

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**October 3****rd**

Spencer sighed. She was at yet another party, and bored to death. It was the fourth party Aria had dragged her to since they'd started college. Aria had promised faithfully that she wouldn't leave her alone, that she'd introduce her to all of her friends and make sure it wasn't awkward. She'd kept that promise for maybe a half hour, and then she'd disappeared to get a drink and never come back.

It was barely eleven, but Spencer was sorely tempted to go to bed already. She lived on the other side of campus, so she could just walk back by herself. She'd just have to find Aria and say goodbye first. After a few minutes of searching she found her friend over by the punch bowl, talking to a group of guys who were laughing a little too loudly.

She moved towards her, but somebody stepped in front of her before she'd even taken a step.

"Spencer!" Emily exclaimed, smiling. "I didn't know you were here!"

Caught off-guard, Spencer just blinked at her friend. "Uh, hey, Emily."

"How are you?" Emily threw her arm around Spencer's neck; Spencer could smell the whiskey on her breath. She carefully stepped away.

"I'm fine, Em," she said.

"Are you having a good night?" Emily pressed.

Spencer shrugged, not taking her eyes off Aria. "It's okay."

Emily eyed her suspiciously. "What you need," her friend announced, "is a drink."

Before Spencer could say a word in protest Emily slipped off through the crowd to the drinks table. She came back with two cups of something that smelled faintly of artificial oranges.

"What is this?" Spencer asked cautiously, watching the liquid swirl around in her cup. That was about how her stomach felt right now, actually.

"Just drink it," Emily said. "It's good, I promise."

Too tired to argue, Spencer raised the cup to her lips and took a sip. It was kind of fruity, a little bubbly, and way stronger than she'd thought. By the time she finished it, which took less than five minutes, she felt a little dizzy.

"So why are you here alone?" Emily asked.

"I'm not -" Spencer started to say, but then she looked over to the punch bowl and saw that Aria had disappeared. "I guess I am."

"I came here with a couple friends from swim team," Emily said, pointing over to group of girls who were taking shots in the corner. "I could introduce you if you want."

"Um, okay."

Spencer started following her friend over to the corner. If she couldn't be here with Aria, at least she was here with a friend. And maybe she could salvage the night and make it, if not enjoyable, at least bearable. But when she was halfway across the room, Spencer caught sight of Aria again.

The small dark-haired girl was locked in a passionate embrace with a muscular guy who looked way too old for her. She was running her hands up and down his arms, leaning into him like she was afraid they were about to be ripped apart. Spencer stopped dead. The logical part of her knew that she had no right to be upset by this. Aria was single, and she could make out with whoever she wanted to. But the emotional part of her, which was currently fuelled by love and spurred on by alcohol, took control.

"Spence?" Emily asked, turning to her. "You okay?"

"Y-yeah," Spencer stammered, unable to tear her eyes away from the sight of Aria kissing someone else. "But I think I have to go now. If you see Aria, tell her I left early, and I'll see her tomorrow."

Spencer spun on her heel and strode away, grabbing another cup of whatever alcohol was on offer and downing it before she reached the door. She didn't look back as she stormed out of the room and sprinted across the campus, unable to stop the flood of tears that threatened to drown her.

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**Reviews are welcome, as always. I love hearing what you guys think.**


	7. No Happy Endings

**One review last chapter? Give me something to work with, guys. Thanks to Sgdp1261, you're a legend. :)**

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**February 14****th**

Although he'd dealt with more broken-hearted people than he could count on both hands, he'd never mastered the art of dealing with them. Sometimes he'd offer them tea, which was invariably too hot or too bitter; sometimes he'd try to reassuringly rub their shoulders, but he'd usually get his hand caught in their hair. So now he just sits there, watching her, wondering what to say.

"Tragic love story, isn't it?" Spencer asks scathingly. At first he thinks she's mocking him, but then he realizes that isn't the case. She's mocking _herself_. "Being in love with someone who you know will never love you back. You get together, you think you'll be okay. You think, hey, maybe this will be my happy ending. But it's not. There are no happy endings."

He opens his mouth to protest, to tell her that there are happy endings, but he can think of absolutely none. He closes his mouth again.

"So you dated for a while," he says instead. "But you're not dating now?"

She tilts her head, looking at him almost quizzically. She's probably wondering why he isn't trying to comfort her, he realizes. He feels like he should offer an apology or an explanation.

"No, we're not."

She doesn't give any more information. McDonald thinks that he might have pushed too hard. She's retreating back into herself, her eyes becoming slightly unfocused. She goes back to trying to rub the blood off her hands, which is probably a futile task.

"Spencer?" he says tentatively.

She doesn't acknowledge him, and he curses himself for rushing her. He may have just blown any chances of her opening up.

"Spencer, I'm going to leave you alone for a few minutes," he says, closing his folder and slowly standing up. "It might give you some time to…"

He doesn't know how to finish the sentence, so he lets it trail off. Then he gives her a sympathetic smile that she doesn't notice, and exits. Outside Delaney is waiting for him.

"We've got an ID on the victim," Delaney says as they start walking down the hall. "His name was Mason Winters. Sound familiar?"

McDonald shakes his head. "Never heard of him."

"Yeah, well, he's got a bit of a record." Delaney hands him a thick folder and watches as he starts flicking through it. "He's a pretty nasty guy. If you ask me, he's better off dead."

McDonald is about to say something about how no one deserves to be dead, but then he reads a line in the file that makes his blood run cold. "Did he really -"

"He never confessed, but yeah, he did," Delaney answers.

The detective glances at Spencer, who's running her hands up and down her arms, like she's cold or nervous or both. She looks so small, so frail. It doesn't seem like she's capable of killing anyone… but then again, people aren't always what they appear.

"If it were up to me we wouldn't be locking her up," McDonald says, re-reading the rap sheet. "We'd be thanking her instead."

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	8. October 20

**Thank you for the reviews! Runawaybaby555, you're so sweet and I really appreciate your words. Guest, glad to hear it, and I hope I can keep you interested in it. Sgdp1261, it depends what you mean by 'it'. :p**

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**October 20****th**

"You should've come last night." Aria plopped down on Spencer's bed, as at home as she was in her own house. "It was great."

Spencer glanced up from her philosophy homework. "Yeah? Meet anyone interesting?"

A bright red blush bloomed on Aria's cheeks. "I did, actually."

"Tell me about him," Spencer said then mentally kicked herself. She didn't want to have to sit here and listen to Aria gush about her latest conquest.

"He's two years older than I am, and he's studying business, but he's not all boring and businessy, you know?"

Apparently Spencer was in a particularly masochistic mood, because she said, "What did he look like?"

"He looked gorgeous." Aria leaned back on the bed, sighing happily. "Messy blond hair, bright blue eyes, this wicked sort of smile."

"He sounds nice," Spencer said idly, trying to calm the voice in her head that was saying _It should be me_.

"Are you all right?" Aria asked, sitting up. She was wearing sweats and a loose shirt – it looked like it was one of Ezra's, even though they'd broken up months ago – and she still had some of last night's makeup on, but to Spencer she looked beautiful.

"Huh?" Spencer hadn't realized she'd been highlighting the same passage for the past five minutes.

Aria leaned over, unaware that the way her arm brushed against Spencer's made the other girl tingle. She grabbed the highlighter, clicked the top, and looked at her friend in concern. "Spence, come on. What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong." Spencer grabbed the highlighter back and moved onto the next passage, which made about as much sense as hieroglyphics. She just couldn't focus today, and she had a nagging feeling it was because she was trying so hard not to picture Aria making out with Mr Business.

"Talk to me," Aria urged, her voice irritatingly persuasive. She rolled over so she was lying on her stomach and tugged on Spencer's sleeve. "Please?"

Spencer shrugged her off. "I appreciate the concern, Aria, but I'm totally fine."

"Hmph." Aria sat up again and looked at her friend, seemingly about to push her point. But then she thought better of it. "Well, I'm here if you want to talk."

"Thanks."

Aria suddenly caught sight of the clock that was hanging above Spencer's desk and let out a little yelp. "I have to go," she said, scrambling to get her things together.

She was halfway to the door before Spencer registered what was happening. "Where are you going?" she called.

Aria paused at the door. "I have a date," she admitted.

"With Mr Business?" Spencer asked, and she nodded.

As Aria scampered through the door, Spencer bit her lip to stop from screaming. She would never be enough for Aria, and she knew it. Well, great. Let her be with Mr Business. She'd just be here wallowing in self-pity.

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	9. The Witnesses

**Thanks for all the reviews, and the new follows/favorites. I've just about finished writing this, so I'll probably be updating daily from here; but I may be persuaded to update more frequently if I see people are really liking the story, so get reviewing. ;)**

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**February 14****th**

"You should go in there and talk to her again," Delaney says.

He should, he knows that. But what is he supposed to say? McDonald's not really a people person. He doesn't always know the right way to react to things, the right words to say, the right gestures to make. He tries, of course, but he doesn't always get it right.

"I could go and talk to her, if you want," Delaney offers. "You look like you could use a break."

He shakes his head. He feels almost protective of her. He hadn't been there when they'd found her with the body, when they'd brought her in, but he'd been assigned to her case from the start. Now he's been talking to her – or at least, sitting with her – for the best part of an hour, and he's starting to feel a connection to her. It's going to make it more difficult, he knows. He should stay objective. This girl just killed someone, and no matter what her story, that wasn't the right thing to do.

"I should go back in there," he says at last, but it still takes him a couple more minutes to work up to actually going back to the room.

As soon as he sits down Spencer's eyes snap up to his, but she doesn't speak. Her gaze unsettles him; she jumps from apathy to anger, confusion to clarity, despair to defiance, so quickly that it's hard to keep track.

"How are you feeling?" he asks. His fingers tighten around the handle of his mug of coffee as he recognizes how stupid that question was. She's just been through something unspeakably traumatic. Now isn't the time to be asking touchy-feely questions like that. He just needs to get the facts. He clears his throat. "Sorry," he says gruffly. "I suppose that was a silly question to ask."

Her mouth quirks up, just slightly, but it's the closest thing to a smile he's seen so far. It cheers him a little. Maybe there's hope yet.

"I know you probably don't want to talk about this all," he goes on, "but it's important that we get the facts in order. That way we can -"

"Figure out how long I'll be rotting in jail for?" she supplies.

He doesn't answer right away, unsure about her tone. Is she joking? Self-loathing? Resigned?

A knock at the door interrupts his scattered thoughts.

"Come in," he murmurs.

Delaney pokes his head in the door. He looks at Spencer, and then gestures for McDonald to follow him. Once they're in the hall he says, "I have some people you might like to meet."

McDonald looks confusedly at the door of the interrogation room. "I'm kind of in the middle of something."

"I know," Delaney says. "But a couple of girls turned up a few minutes ago. I think you should talk to them."

"Why?"

"They're witnesses," he explains as he leads McDonald to another room. "They saw Miss Hastings commit the murder."

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	10. November 2

**Sorry this is a little late; I slept in this morning and I've been playing catch-up all day. But that last set of reviews were so great, and I'm really excited that people are enjoying the story... so here's the next chapter, and don't forget to let me know what you think!**

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**November 2****nd**

"I don't get why you're so upset about this." Aria stood with her hands on her hips, watching as Spencer methodically ripped books from her bookshelf and started organising them according to genre and author.

"I'm not upset," Spencer replied, but the strength with which she was gripping a leather-bound copy of _Pride and Prejudice_ gave her away. "I just don't think it was a good idea, is all."

"It's not like it was somebody I just met," Aria pointed out. When her friend didn't respond she sat down on the end of the bed and clasped her hands. "I know it was kind of sudden, but I really like this guy. You've met him, too. Mason – remember?" She paused, considering her friend. "I thought you'd be happy for me, Spence."

"No, I'm happy." Spencer straightened up, shoved _Wuthering Heights_ into a random place in the shelf, and turned around to face her friend. "I think it was a great idea to screw someone you've only just met. Ten points for spontaneity, Aria, great job."

She knew she was being too hard on her. She was letting her emotions get the better of her, taking her frustration out on Aria, who, despite her ill-advised decision to sleep with Mr Business (she didn't like to use his actual name, because that made him sound more important than he should have been), didn't deserve it. And now Aria was looking up at her with eyes that were brimming with tears.

"I'm sorry," Spencer said, making an effort to keep her voice even. She'd been frustrated, yes, but she'd never meant to upset Aria. She didn't want to make her cry; she only ever wanted to be the reason for her smile. She sat down on the bed beside her and sighed. "I don't think it was a good idea, but it's not my place to judge. I'm your friend, and I should be supporting you."

"I could probably use the support," Aria mumbled, looking away.

Something in her tone made Spencer's heart stop. "What do you mean, sweetie?"

"Nothing." Aria wiped away some of the tears that had spilled down her cheek, and plastered a smile on her face. "It's just been a long week. I'm seriously craving some Sparia time."

Although Spencer wasn't buying into her sudden fake enthusiasm, she didn't want to make things worse. So she hitched a smile onto her face and said, "Sure. What are you in the mood for?"

As Aria rattled off a list of places they could go and things they could do, Spencer noticed how agitated she was. She was wringing her hands, and when she reached up to brush her hair away her hand was trembling. And there was a thin bruise circling her wrist, like someone had grabbed her.

"Hey Aria," Spencer said suddenly, interrupting her when she was halfway through listing the best places to get a manicure, "can you hand me that book over there? Yeah, that one."

Aria looked at her curiously, but reached over and grabbed the book, the sleeve of her shirt sliding up her arm. Spencer thanked her, but her eyes were locked on Aria's newly-revealed arm, which was a mosaic of bruises. Aria caught her looking and pulled her sleeve down.

"Then there's that new place across town -" Aria went on, clearly trying to distract her.

"Aria." Spencer waited until her friend was looking at her, then, gesturing to the bruises, she asked, "What happened?"

"Oh, that?" Aria asked breezily, although her quivering lip was at odds with her attempt at airiness. "Nothing. I just fell down some stairs yesterday. It's no big deal."

When Spencer was younger, she actually had fallen down some stairs. She and Melissa had been running around the house, playing some made-up game that somehow involved a feather duster, a rubber duck, and a book on Latin verbs. She'd come barrelling around the corner and tried to take the steps two at a time, but her balance had been off and she'd ended up tumbling down. The bruises she'd got from that looked nothing like Aria's arm now. These ones looked… deliberate.

"Aria, did someone hurt you?" Spencer asked, terrified to hear the answer. "You can tell me anything, remember?"

"Nobody hurt me, Spence," Aria replied, with a grimace that almost passed for a smile.

"If someone did that to you, there's no reason to protect them," Spencer pressed. "If you're in trouble -"

"I'm _not_." Aria's voice was firm, but slightly shaky. She stood up suddenly. "Now would you please just back off?"

"I'm sorry," Spencer stuttered, alarmed by her reaction. Aria hadn't been this closed off or defensive in a long time; they usually shared everything. "I didn't -"

"Spencer, drop it," Aria said sharply, moving toward the door. "I told you because I thought you'd be supportive. I thought you'd be _happy_ for me."

"Aria -" she started, but her friend was already gone.

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	11. Frightened baby deer

**Sorry this is so late, guys. I've had a busy week, and this chapter gave me a bit of trouble. But I hope you enjoy it, and please review if you do. And thank you for the reviews last chapter, you guys are great. :)**

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**February 14****th**

The two girls are sitting side by side in the waiting room. One of them is crying, her dark hair pinned back by clips that are starting to fall out, her pale blue dress smeared with dirt and some stains that look like blood. The other girl is slightly more composed, but she also looks like she's been dragged through the woods; her cream-colored dress (he can only assume that's the color it is; it's so dirty that it's hard to tell) is ripped in several places, her blonde hair has leaves strewn through it, and she's biting her lip so hard that she's drawing blood. She doesn't seem to notice.

He approaches them slowly, but they still look startled when he reaches them (the officer who'd brought them in – who has conveniently turned in early – said that they were both reluctant to leave the scene, and were 'like frightened baby deer' when anyone tried to approach them). The blonde grabs the other girl's hand and squeezes it, and they both look up at him with slightly blank expressions, as if they're not sure this is really happening.

"Hi girls," he says gently. "My name is Detective McDonald."

The blonde-haired girl sniffs, shaking her arm so that her bracelet falls back down to her wrist. She watches it for a moment, then turns back to the detective. "I'm Hanna," she says. "And this is Emily."

The other girl buries her face in her hands, her sobbing becoming louder and more uncontrollable.

"Hanna, Emily," he says. Sometimes saying people's names can help ground them, and at the very least it makes him seem more approachable, more friendly. And he feels like he needs to be both those things if he's to get through to them – they'd been at the scene, but they'd only been brought in now because they'd had to stay behind while paramedics treated one of them for a panic attack, and the other one refused to leave her behind. They're fragile, to say the least. "Thank you for coming in. My partner over there said you know what happened. Were you there when Miss Hastings -"

"Spencer," Emily chokes out, looking up at last. "Is she okay?"

McDonald hesitates. How the hell is he meant to answer a question like that? But his failure to answer seems to give the girls all the information they need.

"Can… can we see her?" Emily asks hopefully.

"Not right now." He tries not to notice her face falling. "She's still being questioned, and until we know what happened it's best she doesn't see anyone."

At this point Hanna starts crying too, and McDonald feels even more uncomfortable. He feels like he should do something to comfort them. What did his mother used to do when he was upset as a kid?

"Girls, can I get you anything?" he asks. "Some tea, maybe? Or coffee?"

"T-tea," Hanna replies. "That would be nice."

He nods. "I'll be back in a minute."

The first person he finds is not an intern but Delaney. "Can you run across the road and get the girls some tea?" he asks him.

Delaney stares at him. "I'm not an intern," he says. "I don't -"

"Look at them," McDonald interrupts. " They're nervous wrecks. It'll do them good."

His partner rolls his eyes, but something in his expression softens as he watches the girls, who are trying to keep it together. Hanna leans over and rubs Emily's shoulder, and Emily mumbles something that's probably meant to be comforting, because Hanna gives her half a smile. "Fine."

After Delaney leaves, McDonald goes back to the girls. They seem a little more together now, and they look at him with more expression; although that's worse, because he can see the pain, the fear, the shock. It makes him feel slightly faint.

"My partner went to get you some tea," he explains. "But in the meantime, do you feel up to telling me what happened?"

"W-we were at a party," Hanna says. "Me and Spencer and Emily. But Spencer, she… she was acting kind of strange."

"We were really worried about her," Emily adds. "Ever since… I mean, she hasn't been herself lately."

They seem completely in-synch, falling into their storytelling roles with ease. It still seems to pain them, but the more they talk about it the more open they seem to be. He pulls up a chair and sits in front of them, gesturing for them to go on. Maybe Hanna and Emily will be able to shed some light on this tragic tale – although, if he's perfectly honest with himself, he's not sure he wants to hear the rest.

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**The next chapter is quite cute, so stay tuned. You Sparia fans will like it, I promise.**


	12. November 8

**I know I posted the last chapter very recently, but I thought I'd throw this one out there and give you guys a bit of happiness to ease the gloom for the moment. I'm about to start publishing another story I've been working very hard on, so I'll probably alternate between posting chapters of this one and the other. So please keep reading and reviewing this story, and I hope to see some of you over in my other one. :)**

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**November 8****th**

The stands erupted with the sounds of wild cheering and clapping. Spencer was on her feet too, screaming along with the rest as Emily finished a length ahead of the other girl. This was only a practice meet, but it had still generated a good turnout. The crowd had been so thick that when Spencer had arrived, twenty minutes into the meet, she hadn't been able to spot her friends at first. Finally she'd caught sight of Hanna, who had taken the day off work to come and cheer Emily on, and made her way over to her. Aria was nowhere to be seen.

"She's still got it," Hanna said proudly, watching Emily climb out of the pool and shake hands with the other competitors. Spencer glanced sideways at Hanna, unsure if she was referring to her swimming prowess or the way she rocked the swimsuit look.

"I'm going to go get a drink," Spencer announced. "You want anything?"

Hanna shook her head, and Spencer started weaving her way through the crowd. As she waited in line, slightly crushed in the throng of people, she felt someone tap her on the arm. Expecting it to be a little kid or somebody who had accidentally bumped her with their bag, she was surprised to find herself looking into a pair of familiar eyes.

"Hey Spence," Aria said.

They hadn't spoken since Aria had stormed out of Spencer's room a week ago. Spencer had tried calling, but there'd been no answer; she'd even gone over to Aria's dorm, but her roommate had told her she was out – despite the fact Spencer could hear Aria on the phone in the other room. She was so surprised to see Aria here that she was struck speechless.

"Can we talk?" Aria asked.

"S-sure." Spencer ducked out of the line and followed Aria to the bathroom, which was the only quiet place they could find. The door closed behind them, and there was a silence which Spencer didn't know how to interpret. She looked at herself in the mirror, fixing her hair and touching up her makeup, waiting for Aria to speak.

"How've you been?" Aria said at last.

Spencer turned around and surveyed her, trying to figure out if this was a joke. Were they just going to pretend the last week hadn't happened? Was she about to act like she hadn't been ignoring her? "I've been okay."

Aria leaned against the sink, playing with the chunky bead necklace she wore; on anyone else it would look childish, but she managed to make it look trendy. "I'm sorry about the other day. I shouldn't have run off like that."

A rush of relief washed over Spencer. She'd thought she'd crossed the line, that maybe Aria didn't want anything to do with her anymore. And to be honest, the thought had almost killed her. "I'm sorry too," she gushed. "I overreacted. I was in a bad mood already, and I shouldn't have let it get to me."

"What do you mean?"

Spencer clamped her mouth shut. She'd said too much. She'd kept her feelings to herself for months, and now was no time to be breaking that.

"Spence, come on. Why did you care so much? When I told Hanna and Emily, they were nowhere near as pissed as you."

In that moment, something inside Spencer snapped. Maybe it was her common sense, her logical side, that little filter in the back of her brain that usually stopped her saying something stupid. Whatever it was, once it was out of the way, she found herself admitting something she'd never thought she'd have the guts to say.

"Because they're not in love with you!" she burst out, and then her eyes flew wide open as if she hadn't expected herself to say it. Aria turned to her, eyes wide as saucers, mouth slightly parted as she tried to process this. Spencer was full of nervous tension; her heart was beating wildly, her nails were digging into her palm, and she felt faintly sick. She took a deep breath, and forced herself to meet Aria's eyes. "I'm in love with you, Aria."

She braced herself for the backlash. Aria would be shocked, unable to deal with it. She'd storm out and probably never speak to her again. Maybe she'd tell Emily and Hanna and they'd all laugh about it behind her back.

Before she could work out what was happening, Aria took a step towards her, fluttered her eyelashes, and said, "What took you so long?"

And without giving Spencer a chance to answer, she stood on her tiptoes and kissed her.

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	13. She's really alone

**Sgdp1261, you are one of my favorite people, like, ever. Your reviews are so consistent and they really mean a lot. And Runawaybaby555, always great to see your name in the reviews section; you'll find out the answer to those questions in the next couple of chapters (and it may very well kill your Sparia heart, sorry!).**

**Also, disclaimer: I know next to nothing about police procedure, so if anything in this chapter is wrong, I apologize.**

**Enjoy, and don't forget to review.**

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**February 14****th**

"Here's your tea, girls." Delaney sets two cups down on the table, along with a couple of packets of sugar.

McDonald stands up and follows Delaney across the room; the girls need a chance to regroup and relax. They'd just started telling him what had happened tonight, but they seem exhausted already. The picture they'd painted had been tragic indeed: Spencer, in love with someone who didn't feel the same. The loss of Aria had pushed Spencer over the edge, and she'd shut herself off. Tonight she'd reached her breaking point.

Delaney goes into his office, holding the door open with his foot so McDonald can follow him. The office is small; some might say cramped, but McDonald prefers to think of it as intimate. If he doesn't, his claustrophobia might kick in. There are no personal touches, aside from a couple of awards.

"We contacted the girl's parents," Delaney informs him, sitting down behind his desk. McDonald sits down opposite him. "They're away at the moment. Italy, I believe. They're taking the next flight back, but they probably won't get here until tomorrow."

"Do they know what happened?"

"I told them the basic story," Delaney says. "That she was arrested in relation to a crime, and she's now being questioned for it. We can fill them in on the rest when they get here."

"Does she have any other family?" McDonald asks. If it were up to him he'd just let her friends in to see her – she looks like she could do with some cheering up – but that's against protocol. Once he finishes in here he's going to go back in and try talking to her again. It's a painful conversation, and he's not great at comforting her, but he has a sneaking suspicion she enjoys the company. And besides, he feels sorry for the girl. She's just been through hell; she shouldn't be alone.

"She has an older sister," Delaney says. "Melissa. We've been unable to contact her so far, although her parents think she might be on holiday in Paris at the moment."

Although he tries not to, McDonald can't stop himself from imagining how Melissa will react when she hears the news. He doesn't know her, and he hardly even knows Spencer, but he's seen relatives react to news like this before. Some of them cry, some go straight into denial, and others ask an almost unbearable amount of questions. He wonders which Melissa will be.

"She also has a half-brother," Delaney goes on. "Jason DiLaurentis, the brother of that girl who was murdered a few years back."

"Alison," McDonald murmurs. He hadn't been assigned to the case, but he'd heard a lot about it. It had almost torn the Rosewood community apart, until a police officer, Garrett, had come forward and admitted to it. No other case had ever gained such publicity. "Where is this Jason guy now?"

"I'm not sure," Delaney replies. "He appears to have dropped off the radar. He moved out of his Rosewood house and didn't leave any forwarding address."

"So she's really alone." He feels a pang of sympathy for her. Hasn't she been through enough?

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	14. December 3

**Apparently three's the threshold number, because getting that many views has prompted me to put up the next chapter earlier than I'd intended. Let me know what you think!**

**Runawaybaby555, your trust in me is probably misplaced, you know how much I love angst and tragedy; but I'm glad you're enjoying the story at least. KooshGID, thanks for the review, and good pickup with the wording; you'll eventually learn how Spencer 'lost' Aria (although it's probably debatable whether she ever actually 'had' her to begin with). And Sgdp1261, you're lovely. I do wish more people reviewed - not just my work but everyone else's. If you appreciate the art, you should let the artist know, right? And I agree about Spencer - out of all the girls I feel like she's the most high-strung, and she doesn't let people in because she thinks she has to be perfect. Plus, growing up in the Hastings family probably didn't encourage tendencies towards honesty or openness.**

**Anyway. Enough rambling (although if anyone wants to talk more about PLL, feel free to PM me). Now here's the actual chapter.**

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**December 3****rd**

"Can I get a pumpkin spice latte and a raspberry mocha, please." Spencer tapped her finger on the counter while she waited for her order, until the barista gave her a stern look and she realized it looked like she was trying to rush him. She gave him an apologetic smile and shoved her hand in her pocket, turning back around to survey the room.

Aria was sitting by herself at a table near the back, retying the bright red bow in her hair. It matched her polka-dotted dress, which was so very her and, in Spencer's eyes at least, incredibly attractive. Aria caught Spencer's eye and winked, and Spencer felt that familiar flutter in her heart. She'd been dating Aria for almost a month now, and she still couldn't quite believe it was true.

In her creative writing class, they'd been given a task to choose a single moment in time and describe it in as much detail as they could, with embellishments and metaphors if possible. She'd chosen, of course, her first kiss with Aria. Even now, as she thought of it, she ran a finger along her lip and smiled. In that moment, she thought, her heart had started to sing.

It sang whenever Aria was around. Sometimes it was low and gentle, like classical music. Sometimes bright and bubbly, like those pop hits they heard on the radio at the gym. And now it was loud and insistent, like that awful club music they were forced to listen to when Aria dragged her out to college bars. But it was welcome now, because Aria was the one who had caused it.

She took her order over to the table, sliding in beside Aria and wrapping her arm around the smaller girl's shoulders. Aria picked up her drink and inhaled deeply. "Mmm, smells great. Thanks, Spence."

She smiled in response, taking a sip of her mocha. She wanted to take this moment, wrap it up, and send it to herself, so she'd be able to open it on her darkest day and remember that once, she was happy. Once, she had the most perfect girlfriend in the world. Once, her life was worth living.

"So that party," Aria said, setting her cup down and turning to Spencer with a look of barely-contained excitement, "are we going?"

Spencer did not want to go to yet another dorm party, but apparently this was the biggest of the semester, thrown by someone whose very name seemed to inspire a sort of terrified awe. Somehow Aria had scored an invitation, and that meant Spencer was probably obligated to go.

"I guess we are," she said, trying to fake enough enthusiasm to make Aria happy. All she ever wanted was to make Aria happy. "When is it again?"

"The twentieth," Aria said, already flipping open her phone so she could mark the date in her calendar. "So that's plenty of time to plan our outfits. I was thinking I could wear that dress I bought last year, you know the one with the black flowers and the matching scarf? Or maybe…"

Aria got so excited about clothes. She got this look in her eye, something akin to a twinkle, and Spencer thought it was adorable. It was the same kind of look she got when she saw a really cute guy, when she'd been looking at Mr Business, even when she'd with Ezra way back when. It was the look she got when all her attention was on one thing, one person, because nothing else could possibly compare.

Spencer sat there and listened to her talk about dresses and shoes and accessories, nodding along like she was really interested, but all the while she was trying to suppress one thought that stubbornly pushed its way to the forefront of her mind.

Aria had never looked at her like that.

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	15. It fell apart

**Sgdp1261, I did warn you this wouldn't be happy. ;) To be honest every time I post a new story or even chapter I'm a little bit terrified, so having people review my work really does help. And nah, angst and tragedy are perfectly normal things to enjoy... er, right? Anyway. Here's the next chapter, let me know what you think. :)**

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**February 14****th**

This time when he walks in, Spencer looks up. She even twists her face into something that, with a little more emotion, could pass for a smile. He smiles too, making sure to balance warmth and sympathy. He assumes his usual position across from her, and this time he just sits back and waits for her to speak first.

The other girls, Hanna and Emily, are still in the waiting room. When he'd finished talking to Delaney he'd gone to check on them, and he'd found that Emily had fallen asleep. Hanna was gently stroking her hair, still softly crying. She'd looked up at McDonald, so much concern and sadness in her eyes that he couldn't find it in him to go question them again. He can go back later.

Spencer is silent for so long that he starts to think he's trying to wrong tactic. Maybe she isn't quite ready to talk, maybe she's not going to open up unless he asks her direct questions. He opens his mouth to ask something else, but she speaks before he gets a chance.

"Things were good, there," she says, "for a while."

She doesn't say it with fondness, like she's remembering happier times. She says it like she doesn't quite believe it, like she's trying to convince herself. Her eyes drift downwards again, focusing on the table. She seems to forget he's there, getting lost inside herself. But she keeps talking, thinking out loud, and he listens with rapt attention.

"I think we were happy. Or at least, we could have been. If we'd had more time, maybe we could have worked it out. If she'd let me help, I could have -" Her voice hitches and she bites back a sob. "We could have been okay. I know she didn't love me, but… we still could have been together. I would have given up everything for her. I would have done anything if I thought it would make things better for her."

McDonald gets the feeling she hasn't talked to anyone about this before. She seems to be working it through in her mind, trying to sort out her feelings. And it's working, because she's sounding more certain. Maybe if she keeps talking for long enough, she'll explain what happened tonight.

"I know it was stupid. I thought it was just some high-school girl crush at first," she goes on with a touch of bitterness. "I kept hoping I'd just snap out of it one day, you know, just wake up and be over it. It didn't make any kind of sense. Me falling for her, I mean. I shouldn't have done it. I should have…"

Her words dissolve into sobs, and McDonald at last feels it's appropriate to say something.

"You can't help who you fall in love with." It's not original, it's not witty, but it makes her laugh. She seems startled at the sound, brief and quiet as it is, but he thinks it's a good sign.

"So you were happy," he prompts. "What changed? What happened then?"

She turns tear-filled eyes on him. "It fell apart."

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	16. December 20, Part I

**This chapter's shoutout goes to ihavealifeiswear - your review just made my day, thank you so much! I'm actually quite a fan of your work, so to have you say you like my story makes me really excited (seriously, I cannot stop smiling). I hope you enjoy the chapter. :)**

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**December 20****th**

As Spencer looked in the mirror, she felt a flutter of excitement. But it wasn't because of her, although she did look good in her low-cut black dress and kitten-heel shoes. No, it was because in the reflection she could see Aria, who was on the other side of the room finishing her makeup. Aria was wearing a dark blue dress with white skulls on it, and a matching headband. It was an outfit so wild nobody else could get away with it, but on Aria it looked not only natural but, well, gorgeous.

Aria caught Spencer looking at her and grinned. "You excited?"

"Yeah." Spencer turned to her, and suddenly she felt the need to be with her, to be close to her. She crossed the room in three quick steps and wrapped her arms around Aria, pulling her into a kiss. Aria pulled away after a moment, surprised but pleased.

"What was that for?" Aria asked, giggling.

Spencer leaned in and muttered into her ear, "Do I need a reason?"

To her delight Aria grabbed Spencer's hands and led her over to the bed. They collapsed onto it, locked together in a passionate embrace. Spencer kept pulling her closer, leaning deeper into her kiss, unwilling to ever let her go. Aria seemed a little more reserved, but still enthusiastic. They only broke apart when they were both flushed and breathless and –

"Late!" Aria yelped, jumping to her feet. "We're going to be late."

"We'll be fashionable." Spencer sat up and watched Aria dash around the room, shoving seemingly random items into her purse and looking for her other shoe. She knew she should be getting ready too, but she couldn't quite bring herself to do it. "Aria?"

The dark-haired girl paused halfway through rummaging in a drawer. "Yeah?"

"Are you…" Spencer rolled the words around her mouth, knowing what he wanted to say but not sure how to say it. Aria could be flighty sometimes; she could be impetuous, spontaneous, and react badly to things that Spencer would have never thought to avoid. "Are you happy with the way things are?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, like…" Although she'd done debate for years, and given more speeches than she could remember, she couldn't find the right words to use now. "With us. Are you happy with the way things are between us?"

"If I wasn't happy, I'd leave."

She meant it in a teasing way, Spencer knew that. But it didn't stop her from feeling a slight twinge. She'd been with Aria for weeks now, but she never really felt like she was _hers_. Spencer had completely given herself to Aria, but she felt like her girlfriend was holding back. She was always worried Aria would take off, her attention attracted by some new shiny guy who was nowhere near as smart but somehow twice as dazzling. Even when she was kissing Aria, even when she was holding her, she never felt like she really _knew_ her.

Aria, seeing that Spencer was still serious, sat down at the desk chair. "Spence, what's this really about?"

Spencer considered trying to brush it off, but Aria knew her too well for that. She'd started this conversation, and now she'd have to work through it.

"I just… I get worried," Spencer admitted. "I feel like you're going to, I don't know, up and leave."

"Are you saying you don't trust me?" Aria tried to keep her voice even, but Spencer could sense the emotion behind it.

"No, I'm not saying that. I'm saying that I don't…" She hesitated. There was only one way she'd been able to phrase it to herself. Once she said it there was no going back; she'd just have to hope Aria would give her a chance to explain. "I don't feel like you're really _mine_."

"I'm not yours," Aria said.

"No!" Spencer said quickly. "No, I don't mean that. I mean, you are mine. And I love you. It's just -"

"You don't think this is working," Aria accused.

"I never said that," Spencer responded, a bubble of panic rising up in her.

"You didn't deny it either." Aria stood up, folding her arms. After a moment of indecision she grabbed her bag and headed for the door.

"Where are you going?" Spencer asked, feeling herself wilting like the roses she'd once left out in the sun too long.

"To the party," Aria said, her voice only a few degrees warmer than arctic.

Before Spencer could say a word, Aria had gone, taking all of the warmth out of the room. Spencer slumped on her bed, feeling like her heart had been ripped out of her chest. No, worse. Like her heart had suddenly uprooted itself and stormed out of her life. And she wasn't sure it was ever going to come back.

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**The next few 'flashback' chapters are set on the same night, since that's when things really start happening.**

**KooshGID, thank you for your review, as always; stay tuned because something dramatic is definitely about to happen.**

**Sgdp1261, I actually have a feeling people are going to hate me once they find out what happens, but hey, it's my story. ;) I'm glad you appreciate tragedy and angst; I actually started writing this because I wrote another story with a happy ending, and it was so sweet that I was like 'Nope, too much, I need to write something dark'. XD**


	17. Words unsaid

**Thanks for the reviews, apologies for this being such a tragic love story. But if you guys didn't love it you wouldn't be reading it, so don't blame me for any heart breaking that may occur. You knew what you were getting yourselves into. :p (Don't worry, this chapter's not so bad.)**

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**February 14****th**

"What do you mean?"

Spencer has been silent for the past ten minutes. She keeps opening her mouth like she wants to keep talking, but something stops her. She looks suddenly very tired; McDonald doesn't know what time it is, but it's late, and it's dark. Girls like her should be at home, snuggled up with their partner; they should be at their desk, writing out essays for classes their parents made them take; they should be out partying, having fun with their friends. They shouldn't be sitting in an interrogation room, covered in blood and dirt, recounting the story of how they lost the love of their life.

"I always thought it was too good to be true," Spencer says.

McDonald, who had been busy tying and retying his shoelaces just to give him something to do, sits up straight and his eyes snap to hers. He nods slowly, gesturing for her to go on.

"I'd been in love with her for a year, and she'd never given me a second thought." Spencer sniffles, and he offers her an unused handkerchief. She seems startled by his chivalry, but she accepts it gratefully. She studies the design on it, perhaps wondering why it has flowers on it, but she doesn't comment. "Then I told her I loved her, and she said she felt the same. Only… she never actually _said_ it."

"Said what?"

"'I'm in love with you.'" Spencer tries to wipe away some tears, but they mix with the dried blood on her hand and she ends up smearing some of it on her cheek. "She never said 'I'm in love with you'. Not once. She'd say 'Me too' or 'I feel the same', but she never actually said the words."

"I bet that bugged you, huh?" McDonald thinks he's beginning to understand. When he was in high school – which had only been a few years ago – he'd been dared to ask out this girl in his class. He had, and to his shock she'd said yes. They'd started dating, and he'd actually fallen for her. But she'd been dating him out of curiosity rather than genuine emotion, and when he'd found out he'd holed up in his room playing video games and refused to talk to anyone for days.

"Of course it bugged me. But I kept hoping that maybe, somehow, one day…"

"She'd fall in love with you." He doesn't need Spencer's nod of confirmation to know that's true. He can see it in her eyes, in the way her shoulders slump. And he also knows that 'one day' never came.

"You said something earlier," he says, hoping to draw her back into the story before she closes off again. "Something about the first time you two fought. You said she ran off to the party by herself. Can you tell me about what happened after that?"

"I followed her, of course," Spencer says.

"Did you find her?"

Some dark emotion flashes through Spencer's eyes, and when she replies her voice is sharper. "Yes. I found her."

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	18. December 20, Part II

**Thanks for the review, Guest, I'm glad you're enjoying the story. KooshGID, thank you, I really appreciate your reviews. Sgdp1261, it's totally okay, please don't feel obligated to reply to every single chapter; thank you for the gratitude, you're so sweet. And do let me know if this ends up making you cry; I've never brought anyone to tears with my writing, so that would be kind of a milestone for me. ;)**

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**December 20****th**

Spencer argued with herself for twenty minutes before she slowly sat up and finished getting ready. So she and Aria had fought. It wasn't the end of the world. She should go and find her, apologize, and talk things through. She looked at herself in the mirror on the way to the door, and hoped that it would be so dark and crowded at the party no one would notice how pale she was, how her eyes were red from crying, or how she couldn't quite keep the fear out of her eyes. Had Aria really left her?

When she arrived at the party she was underwhelmed. She'd thought it would be big, loud, and exclusive. But as she walked across the dirt path all she saw was a group of people huddled around the entrance, talking quietly. She approached them and cleared her throat.

"Yes?" said one of the girls, who was busily spraying hairspray into her already over-styled hair. "Can we help you?"

"I'm looking for Jordana's party," Spencer explained. "Do you know where it is?"

"If you don't know where it is, you obviously weren't invited," the girl scoffed.

Spencer blinked, wondering where this girl got her arrogance from. If she was out here, it probably meant she wasn't cool enough to get into the party either.

One of the other girls, who looked sort of mousy and even had a squeaky voice, took pity on her and said, "It's over there, through the front doors, up to the second floor."

"Thanks." Spencer turned on her heel and strode off, ignoring the laughter drifting up from behind her. They thought she wasn't cool enough to get an invitation either.

A burly guy wearing nothing but a tutu answered the door. "Name?" he asked.

"I, um." She hesitated. "I came with a friend, only she's already here."

"So you didn't really come with her." The guy gave her a condescending look, which was only slightly less intimidating due to his apparel.

She didn't bother replying to that. "Look, I'm Aria Montgomery's plus-one. Can you let me in or not?"

He checked the name against his clipboard, scribbled a quick note, and then opened the door wider. As she stepped through she made sure to flash a big smile at the gobsmacked group of girls.

The door closed behind her, and suddenly she realized that the party _was_ big, loud, and exclusive. Even from downstairs she could hear the sounds of laughter, singing, and general chatter. There was even the occasional cheer or chant – some kind of drinking game, she assumed. She ascended the stairs, not sure what to expect. She'd never really been big on partying, and she'd never turned up to a college party by herself; usually she was with Aria, or Emily and Hanna. She didn't even know anyone here.

That didn't seem to matter. As soon as she reached the second floor, offers started flooding in. Several people handed her drinks, which she turned down, and someone else invited her to play shot roulette. She didn't even bother being polite in her refusal.

This pattern carried on for the next ten minutes as she searched desperately for Aria. The party seemed to span the entire floor; most of it was in the hall, but a few rooms had open doors too. There were a lot of people here, but nobody seemed sober enough to know their own names, let alone be able to tell her where Aria was. She was considering giving up when she finally saw that familiar figure in the back corner.

But almost as soon as she saw her, she also saw _him_. Mr Business. She'd only met him once, and formed an instant but seemingly irrational dislike of him. Even if he'd been perfect she still would have disliked him, simply because he was with Aria and she wasn't. And here he was, with her. Again.

This scene was painfully familiar. Who was she kidding? Why had she thought she stood a chance? She wasn't good enough for Aria, she never had been. She'd only been fooling herself when she pretended otherwise. She'd just been a fling, an experiment, and now Aria had gone back to her roots. Back to him.

She felt sick. His hands were all over her; she was leaning into him. The party raged all around her, but Spencer stayed still, strangely calm. Everything moved in slow motion. The singing in Spencer's heart turned into a scream. She would never get Aria back.

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**The night's not over yet. What do you guys think will happen next? Or are you scared to find out? :p**


	19. Tears are louder than words

**I'm updating quickly because I have some other stuff I want to start publishing, but I don't want to be juggling too many stories. So enjoy the frequent updates, guys. :p**

**Thanks as always to Runawaybaby555; you're one of my favorite people and your reviews always make me so happy. (I apologize for the trauma this story is making your Sparia heart endure.)**

**And thank you to insertnameherex, it's always great to hear people are enjoying my work. And no problem, I'm glad you appreciated it; as writers I feel like we should all be encouraging each other, you know?**

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**February 14****th**

At first McDonald doesn't know what to say. He's been cheated on before, and he knows how much it stings. But somehow he feels this isn't the end of the story. Spencer's full of too much pain for that to be the end. Which means there's more, and he's not sure he wants to hear it. He knows he's getting too personally involved in this. He's here to take her statement, to find out what happened. The story she's telling him might not have any relevance to what happened tonight, and therefore he shouldn't listen to it. But he can't stop.

"So she was there with someone else," McDonald summarizes.

Spencer nods, then shakes her head. "Sort of. I mean, they were there together, but… it wasn't what it looked like."

"What was it then?"

She doesn't answer, but her reaction is enough. Her face crumples, the tears start again, and she covers her face with her hands. He feels an urge to hug her; not only would that be inappropriate, it could well make things worse. But he can't stand to sit here and watch her cry.

"Would you like a drink?" he mumbles, suddenly needing to be out of the room.

She shrugs, which he takes as a _yes_. He ducks out of the room, almost crashing into Delaney, who smirks at him.

"You doing okay?" Delaney asks, and McDonald recognizes the actual concern behind the jocular tone.

McDonald rubs his temples. "Yeah, I'm fine," he replies, although he's not really. He can handle remorseless criminals, gruesome murders, difficult cases… but she's just a girl. She's not even twenty yet, and she's been through more than anyone should ever have to survive. He's reasonably confident that she killed this Winters guy – she did confess, after all – but he doesn't feel the usual rush of disgust or anger he gets with other murders. Instead he feels… the only way he can think to put it is _bad_. He feels bad for her.

He sighs, leading the way over to the water cooler. He fills up two cups, taking longer than is strictly necessary. On his way back to the room he glances at the other girls; they're both asleep, Emily with her had on Hanna's shoulder, Hanna with her arm around Emily. He almost smiles, until he remembers why they're here. He uses his leg to nudge the door open and goes back in.

One way or another, he's going to get to the bottom of this.

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**This was kind of a filler chapter, but something very big happens next chapter (which I will upload first thing tomorrow). Stay tuned, guys. :)**


	20. December 20, Part III

**Ah, Poisonnwine, thank you so much! It's people like you who keep me writing. Your review was so lovely and it really meant a lot, so thank you. And thanks to insertnameherex and Sgdp1261, as usual; your reviews are much appreciated, and I hope you're enjoying the story. (I mean, as much as you can enjoy tragedy - by the way it's great to see so many people who like reading tragedy, I was beginning to worry it was just me).**

**Oh. Warning for this chapter. Something happens in this chapter (some of you have probably already figured out what) which might be upsetting. It's not very graphic, but if you're not sure you want to read it, feel free to PM me and ask about it or just skip it (it will be mentioned later on anyway, so you don't necessarily have to read this chapter).**

**That said, here you go. Let me know what you think.**

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**December 20****th**

It was so dark. The sky was cloudy, the closest streetlamp had been smashed, and the lights from the party were far behind her. Spencer wasn't sure how far she'd run. She'd just kept going stumbling over her own feet in the dark, knowing she had to get away as fast as she could. But no matter how fast or how far she traveled, she couldn't forget what she'd seen. For one brief shining moment Aria had been hers, but that was over now.

She stopped at a park bench, sinking down onto it and trying to steady her breathing, which was uneven due to exertion and the sobs that intermittently wracked her body. Despite her best efforts, the scene kept replaying itself in her mind. Aria, embracing Mr Business. It shouldn't matter that it was him specifically; the most important thing should be that Aria was with someone who wasn't _her_. But for some reason it made her even more angry that it was him.

Aria had gone out with him for a couple weeks, during which time Spencer had been really worried about her. She'd never seen Aria so distant, so removed. And there were those bruises that just kept popping up, with excuses ranging from stairs to doorways to an exuberant Dalmatian she met on a walk one day. No matter how hard Spencer pushed, Aria hadn't opened up about it. Spencer had been so relieved the day Aria broke up with him that she'd wrapped her up in a hug and held on for so long that Aria almost started hyperventilating.

So maybe it did matter that it was _him_ she was with now. He didn't deserve her. He shouldn't be with her. Spencer was aware that she herself wasn't good enough for Aria, but it was different. She had nothing but the best intentions, and she would back off at once if she thought it was best for her. But this guy, he was… he was like a predator. He followed her around, waiting to catch her at her weakest and confuse her with his flashy words and meaningless credentials. Kind of like a peacock, waving its fancy tail about in hopes to distract females long enough to pounce on them.

At that point she gave up trying to figure out whether he was a lion or a bird, because something even more important occurred to her. She'd been so surprised that she hadn't noticed it before, but the more the image played out in her head, the more certain she was. He'd been looking at Aria, almost hungrily. And she'd been looking at him, too, but… it hadn't been like _that_. Her eyes weren't shining, twinkling, even glimmering.

Spencer felt her heart stop for a second, and then start pounding. Aria hadn't looked at him with love or even lust in her eyes. Maybe Spencer had misinterpreted it. Maybe it hadn't been what it looked like. Maybe she still had a chance.

She jumped to her feet and started sprinting back to the party. Her lungs were burning and she thought she was getting a stitch, but she didn't care. Aria may not love her, but she didn't love this guy either. Somehow this gave Spencer a spark of hope, and that was enough to fuel her flight to the party.

She was still a couple of minutes away (at least at the pace she was running, which was significantly slower than her starting pace) when a sound stopped her short. She stood, hands behind her head as she tried to get her breath back and stop the aching in her limbs, and peered through the gloom. It had sounded like.. not quite a scream, but a cry at least. A girl's voice. Someone in shock or pain or fear.

Her eyes fell upon a shadowy shape behind the nearest building. At first she couldn't quite make it out, although it filled her with a sense of inexplicable terror. But as her eyes adjusted to the dim light and she was able to figure out what was happening, the terror swirled into fierce anger and she marched forward, ignoring the possibility of danger to herself.

"Get the hell away from her," she snarled.

The guy turned around, shocked. He'd been crouched above Aria, holding her down as he forced himself on her. She was crying softly, no fight left in her, although the scratch above his eye showed that she'd tried to defend herself. He straightened up, pulling out of her and zipping up his pants.

"This doesn't concern you," he growled.

The sight of Aria lying there, helpless, terrified, ignited something in Spencer that she was unable – and didn't even try – to control. It was powerful, primal. He had hurt Aria, her Aria, and there was no way he was walking away from this. It was as simple as that.

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**Confession: I've never written a scene like this before. It's delicate subject matter and I wasn't entirely sure how to handle it. So be sure to let me know what you thought.**


	21. Raw

**Thank you for the great response last chapter, everyone. You guys are the best. I'm in kind of a rush so I don't have time for much of an A/N, but I hope you enjoy this chapter. As always, let me know what you think.**

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**February 14****th**

Stunned, McDonald watches as Spencer's face changes. It becomes darker as she recounts the story of finding Winters attacking her girlfriend. The tears stop and her voice becomes little more than a snarl.

"He was _violating_ her." She looks sickened at the thought, or perhaps the memory. "She kept saying 'No, no, I don't want this', but he didn't listen. He didn't stop. He was _enjoying_ it. He was getting off on her terror."

Anger radiates from her, almost like physical heat, and McDonald feels himself shrinking back. He doesn't have the words to respond to this raw, unbridled pain. But the story isn't finished, and Spencer barrels on, her anger encouraging her.

"He was hurting her, and I…" She looks away, clenching her fists. This is a new side to her; it's so different to the vulnerable, reticent girl she was just an hour ago when she first came in. It's more like the accounts of her given by the officers who arrested her. They listed her as 'aggressive, hostile, and reluctant to cooperate'. He can understand now where that hostility stems from. "I couldn't stop it. I couldn't save her."

Suddenly, in a burst of movement he'd assumed she was incapable of given her present state, she's on her feet. She grabs the chair and hurls it across the room, where it smashes into the door and tumbles to the ground. She's breathing hard, hands balled into fists, a wild look in her eyes. She makes no apologies and no move to upright the chair.

McDonald pauses, waiting for her to calm down a little, before he carefully stands up, picks up the chair, and returns it to its place. He gestures for her to sit, but she doesn't. Instead she starts pacing, reminding him again of a wild animal trapped in a cage, and he watches her warily. This burst of violence hasn't quite shocked him, exactly, but it has made him more cautious. Spencer is on edge, possibly even dangerous if she's pushed.

"Do you need a moment?" he asks.

She glances up at him, considering his offer. And then another wave of fury takes over her and she slams her fist against the table. It makes a loud crack, and it looks like it would hurt like hell, but she doesn't even let out a whimper. He's equal parts impressed and concerned.

"I couldn't save her!" she exclaims again, and he recoils at the anger and self-loathing in her voice.

He considers saying something like 'It wasn't your fault' or 'You couldn't have known' but he knows that will be of no comfort now. Whatever happened, happened, and he has a feeling that trying to make things right now, trying to console her, will only make things worse. So he stays quiet while she rages, pacing, shouting, until she flings herself against the wall and he's forced to intervene.

He wraps his arms around her, as gently as he can, scared she's going to do some real damage if she keeps hurling herself at the wall. He manages to coax her back into her seat, and she folds her arms and glares at him. Then, as suddenly as it came about, her anger dissipates. She slumps in her chair, seeming smaller without her rage.

"It's my fault," she mumbles.

"The rape?" he says, confused. "No, that wasn't -"

"No." Her voice is sharp, but soft. "Not that."

"Then what? What do you think is your fault?"

"What happened after."

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	22. December 20 onwards

**Wow, thank you for the great response last chapter! Your reviews really mean a lot to me. Special shoutout to Sgdp1261 and insertnameherex - it was great to see you guys over in 'A is for Arlene'. So here's the next chapter, and don't forget to let me know what you think. :)**

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**December 20****th**

He didn't look ashamed. He didn't look remorseful. He looked startled at being interrupted, but that was it. And that made Spencer furious. The emotional side of her brain gave the logical part permission to take a long sabbatical, and she charged at him, clawing at him, letting out a strangled wail as she tried to inflict as much pain on him as possible.

She got in a few good shots, but he reacted quickly. Her outrage gave her strength, but it also made her clumsy. He grabbed her shoulders and shoved her against the wall, knocking the breath out of her and making her double over in pain. By the time she recovered enough to open her eyes, he was already gone. For the briefest instant she considered going after him, but she was needed here.

"Hey," she said softly, dropping to her knees beside Aria.

The smaller girl blinked at her through her tears, a trickle of blood running down her face. It broke Spencer's heart to see her like this, to feel so powerless. And to know that she may have been the reason for it. If only she hadn't let her leave, maybe this wouldn't have happened.

"You're going to be okay," Spencer promised, and she tried her best to make that true.

But as horrible as that day was, what followed was even worse. Spencer called 911 and waited with Aria until the ambulance came. She gave her statement to the police, rode with Aria in the ambulance, stayed with her until the nurses told her to go home. She made sure to visit Aria every day after that, even though she went back to Rosewood, which was a forty minute drive away.

Spencer did everything she could to help Aria through it. She became a shoulder to cry on, a friend to talk to, anything that Aria needed her to be. She went grocery shopping for her, picked up assignments, and grabbed a few things from Aria's room that she couldn't bear to live without. She kept a sympathetic smile on her face the whole time, but it killed her to see her girlfriend change before her eyes.

She tried not to notice the way Aria flinched when she touched her. When Aria asked her to leave so she could get some rest, she tried to remind herself that Aria had been through an ordeal and needed time alone. And the day that Aria woke up screaming, and Spencer had tried to calm her down, but Aria had been so frantic that in her confusion she'd slapped her across the face – well, Spencer took it in her stride. Aria needed her, and she was going to be there for her.

She was never quite sure whether to talk about it or not. People started referring to it as 'that night' or 'the incident', and when the police had done a follow-up interview and used the word _rape_ around Aria, Spencer couldn't help but notice that Aria averted her eyes and mumbled something incoherent.

Of course, Spencer still loved Aria. She couldn't imagine life, or even a day, without her. She wanted to be with her, but more than that, she wanted to mean something to her. Aria was… there was no other word besides _broken_. When she looked at Spencer, her eyes were dull and lifeless, not even a flicker of love or light. Spencer's girl was slipping away from her, and she blamed herself.

If only she hadn't initiated that fight. If only she'd gone after her sooner. If only she'd been stronger and smarter and better, she could have stopped this. And she wouldn't have to sit there and watch Aria look at her with those dead eyes, hear Aria answer every question in a monosyllabic monotone, feel her slipping further and further away.

Days melded into weeks, and there was no change. Spencer knew she was going to have to accept the fact that it was over, that she'd never get her girl back, but something kept her hanging on. Some faint stirring of delusional hope, something the emotional part of her clung to while logic was still on vacation. She wasn't entirely sure what she was doing, but she knew why.

People always do crazy things when they're in love, after all.

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	23. Alexithymia

**I just wrote a long introduction/reflection on this chapter, but I deleted it because it really wasn't necessary.**

**There are only two things I have to say here:**

**1. Thank you, as always, for your reviews.**

**Your kind words mean the world to me, and it's heartening to see so many people enjoying my story...**

**even though it's totally tragic and I think a few hearts are breaking along the way (mine included).**

**2. Please don't hate me for this chapter. It's how things had to happen, okay?  
**

**And yes, I will update soon, so I won't leave you hanging for too long.**

**Enjoy.**

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**February 14****th**

The pain her eyes is unbearable. McDonald looks away. He's dealt with rape victims, suicide survivors, people who have been through all the levels of hell… and it never gets easier. He still feels lost when he sees such pain, such grief. But he knows the story is coming to its tragic end, and it's his duty to listen to it.

Spencer has stopped speaking, but she's not crying anymore. He's not sure whether this is a good sign or not.

"So the weeks following the -" he almost says the word, but catches himself in time "- _incident_ were difficult?"

"Difficult?" Spencer echoes, and then she laughs. It's harsh, cynical, and he knows he's said the wrong thing. "Breaking up is difficult. Being cheated on is difficult. Watching the love of your life fade to nothing before your eyes, knowing there is _nothing_ you can do to save her… seeing her fall apart and knowing you could have prevented it… feeling her push you away, close herself off from the world, and let herself slip away… there are no words to describe that."

He doesn't feel qualified to reply to this. What can he possibly say, he who has never been through such trauma? What words of wisdom can he offer, when his tongue feels like lead? What comfort can he give, in the face of such grief and guilt?

"So what happened then?" he says, hoping that if he steers her back to her story, she might finally reveal what really happened tonight.

"She slipped away." Spencer's eyes start to glaze over, like she's disappearing into her own world. He knows he can't follow her, but he's hoping she'll come back when she's ready.

"I'll give you a few minutes," he says. Once he's out in the hall he leans against the wall, rubbing his temples. He doesn't entirely understand why this case is hitting him so hard. She's not the first criminal with a sob story, the first broken heart he's ever seen. But something about her… the vulnerability, the fragility, makes his heart ache for her.

He looks up when he hears footsteps.

"Hey," Delaney says. He gestures to the door and asks, "How's it going?"

McDonald shakes his head. "To be honest, I'm not sure. I think we _might_ be getting somewhere, slowly. How's it going with the other girls?"

"They haven't woken up yet," Delaney tells him. He glances at his watch. "Listen, I might go grab something to eat. You want anything?"

"Sure," McDonald says. "A burger or something would be great."

"No problem." Delaney slides his jacket on and heads for the door.

McDonald watches him go, and then walks back to the main room. He sinks into his chair, wondering if he has any aspirin. He could really use some right about now.

"Is she okay?"

The soft voice makes him jump. He turns around, trying to hide how startled he is, and sees the blonde girl – Hanna – looking at him. Emily is still asleep, and Hanna is gently stroking her hair, but her eyes are fixed on him.

"Spencer?" he asks. "She's… doing the best she can."

"She hasn't been herself for a while," Hanna confides. "After what happened… what happened to Aria, she…"

He wonders how close all the girls had been; Hanna seems almost as upset about Aria as Spencer is.

"Did she tell you about that?" Hanna asks. "What that creep did to her?"

He nods. It turns out that they'd processed the case here, after Aria had reported it. He hadn't been involved in it, but from what he could tell it hadn't led to much. A slap on the wrist at most. It made him sick that someone could do something like that and just… get away with it.

"Did she tell you what happened after?"

"After?"

"What Aria did," Hanna goes on. "What we… we couldn't stop her from doing."

"You mean how she became closed off?" McDonald asks, although he has a feeling it's more than that. "How she withdrew and fell into a sort of depression?"

"Yeah, that, and…" Hanna looks down at her lap, fiddles with the straps of her purse. McDonald feels a surge of apprehension; whatever had happened after was obviously terrible, even compared to what had already happened – which was terrible enough in itself. Hanna looks up again, her eyes brimming with tears. "Aria never moved on from it. She wouldn't let us help her… we couldn't do anything to stop her."

"Stop her?" he echoes. "Stop her from doing what?"

Hanna takes a shaky breath. "From killing herself."

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	24. February 1

**I was not expecting such a great response to the last chapter, thank you guys so much! It's interesting to know that I can apparently break hearts in a good way. :p**

**Okay. You guys know how much I love tragedy, right? So when I say that writing this chapter just about killed me, well... consider yourselves warned. Also, this chapter could be considered upsetting/triggering/etc, so if it is please stop reading, all right? Breaking hearts is one thing, but I'm not okay with anything more than that.**

**So. Here it is. R&R, as always.**

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**February 1****st**

As Spencer walked up to the Montgomery house, she felt lighter than she had in a long time. Yesterday Aria had smiled at her. Actually _smiled_, like she was happy to see her. She'd been brighter, too, more alert and engaged. They'd watched a movie together, and Aria hadn't flinched when Spencer had wrapped her arm around the smaller girl's shoulder. Her parents were out of town and her brother was at a friend's, so they had the place to themselves tonight; it was going to be great.

Spencer practically bounced up the steps, enthused by the idea of getting to spend the night with her girl. Things had been rocky, for a while, but she thought Aria was getting better. It felt like it anyway. She was opening up more, and they were gradually getting back to how they used to be. And eventually they'd be able to move past it, move on to something more, something better. Maybe she'd get her happy ending after all.

She knocked on the door, shifting her weight to her other foot. She was trying to balance a box of pizza and a bag full of snacks, and it wasn't working too well. When nobody came to the door she transferred the pizza to her other hand and knocked again, more loudly and insistently.

There was no sign of movement inside the house, and it was eerily silent. She reached out a tentative hand and tried the door handle, expecting to find it locked. Instead it turned easily and the door swung open, revealing a house that was cloaked in darkness. That was odd; Aria had known she was coming, and normally she'd at least leave the living room light on for her.

"Aria?" Spencer called, stepping through the door and gently closing it behind her with her foot. "Aria, sweetie, are you home?"

There was still no answer, so she went toward the kitchen, turning on every light she passed. It seemed too dark, too quiet. It made her feel a little nervous, but she kept telling herself that Aria was probably just in the shower and hadn't heard her. She set the pizza down on the counter and the snacks on the table, and then made her way back toward the stairs.

Her footsteps echoed more loudly than the carpeted stairs should allow. Her heartbeat was jarring, like it wanted to stop but knew it probably shouldn't. And she was working very hard to keep her mind from racing off with her; her intelligence often manifested itself as an overactive imagination. Sometimes that was good, but now it was almost unbearable.

The only light on upstairs was the bathroom, and like a moth to a flame she went to it – even though she knew she was going to get burned. Everything about this felt wrong. Panic began fluttering in her chest, and if she'd been going toward anyone but Aria she would have turned back already.

"Aria?" she called again. She stopped at the door, which was slightly ajar, and gently tapped on it. "Honey, are you in there?"

She nudged the door open further with her foot, peering around. The first thing she saw was an empty pill bottle on the sink, but her mind was moving so slowly that she didn't realize what that meant. But when she pushed the door fully open and saw the rest of the room, the pieces fell together. And when she saw the love of her life lying lifeless in the bathtub, Spencer fell to her knees, a strangled scream being torn from her throat.

There was so much blood; the water was a sickening shade of red. The mirror had been smashed, and pieces of it lay scattered on the floor. Spencer crawled across them, barely able to feel as they sliced her skin, unable to find the strength to even pull herself to her feet.

"Aria," she sobbed, reaching for her hand. It was terrifyingly cold. "Aria, come on, baby. Wake up. Please. You have to wake up."

She leaned against the edge of the tub, clinging to Aria's hand as she had once clung to hope.

"Aria, please. Wake up. You can't… Aria, I love you. _I love you_. Please don't leave me. _Please_…"

Her words fell to the floor like unheard prayers, and Aria stayed deathly still. And even as she sobbed and screamed and shouted at her to wake up, Spencer knew that it was over.

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	25. Dealing

**Wow, thanks for the great response last chapter. Your reviews are what keeps me writing, so thank you.**

**insertnameherex - quoting Spencer, I like it. I actually sort of had that quote in mind when writing this chapter. Great minds think alike. ;)**

**Shaynezo - always great to see your name in the reviews section. Apologies for shattering your heart (is it bad I'm a little bit proud of that though?).**

**Sgdp1261 - is it weird that I started smiling when you said you cried? I mean normally that's a bad thing, but in this context... well, I take it as a compliment. ;) I'm curious about what song you were listening to at the time though.**

**KooshGID - haha, thank you. I agree that it would be absolutely awful to find someone like that, so I hope I've done a good job conveying how heartbroken Spencer would be after that.**

**CMR - wow, thank you so much! It means a lot that you'd take the time and go to the effort of reviewing. Your review made me smile a lot; it's great to know that people are enjoying the style/format of the story.**

**Whew, I have a feeling the A/N is longer than the actual chapter here, sorry! Hope you enjoy it anyway. ;)**

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**February 14th**

"Spencer was the one who found her?" The thought makes McDonald feel slightly sick. But it explains why Spencer is so, well, broken. She'd lost the love of her life less than two weeks ago, and she'd been the one to find her. He can't even imagine what she's going through, and he thinks it's probably better that way.

Hanna nods. "We were all… we're all still grieving. But Spencer…"

"She was devastated." Emily has woken up, and she's looking like she might start crying again. Hanna wraps her arm around her friend and pulls her into a hug.

"I'm… sorry for your loss." He stumbles over the words. They seem inadequate, almost insensitive. These girls hadn't lost Aria; she had been torn from their lives, ripped away from them by inexorable fate. And yet they would blame themselves, because she was their friend and they hadn't been able to save her.

Hanna sniffs, indifferent to his condolences. She's probably heard them a thousand times these past couple of weeks, from people she doesn't know or doesn't care about. None of their words will make a difference – they're not going to bring Aria back. They're not going to turn back time and stop Spencer from ending up at that gas station.

He rubs the bridge of his nose, suddenly very tired. He's unravelling this investigation, just like he's meant to, but he hasn't been presented with a stone-cold criminal with remorseless eyes and a flimsy alibi. Instead he has a scared teenage girl, one who's just lost the love of her life, and who has confessed to murdering a rapist.

"So what happened after.." He starts to say 'Aria's suicide', but by the looks on the girls' faces he knows that's not going to get him anywhere. He needs to phrase things delicately so he doesn't startle or upset them.

"After Aria…" Hanna can't bring herself to say the words either. She looks to Emily, who squeezes her hand in a silent gesture of support, urging her to continue. "After that we… Her parents arranged the funeral. We did a memorial service in Rosewood, with some of her old high school friends."

"It was beautiful," Emily adds softly, and a small, sad smile spreads across her face. He can tell she's replaying the memorial in her mind.

"It was," Hanna agrees. "We had her favorite flowers, and her brother gave this beautiful speech…"

At the thought of Aria's brother the two girls tear up again, and stop talking. McDonald is worried they're going to cry again – he's already offered them tea, how else is he meant to comfort them? – but they seem to steady each other, both girls hanging onto each other like lifelines, and they avert the flood of tears.

"It sounds lovely," he says gently. "How have… how have you two been since Aria's… passing?"

He's trying to be comforting yet professional, but mostly he's just sad. These poor girls have been through so much, and it's not over yet. There's going to be a trial, during which they may be asked to testify. Then there's going to be a verdict, and no matter how that turns out he knows it will be difficult to deal with.

"We've been…" Hanna trails off.

"… dealing," Emil supplies.

He nods. That's all anyone can ever do, really.

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	26. February 8

**insertnameherex - funnily enough, in my mind there was always a sort of side Hannily thing going on in this story. It becomes more explicit in the next couple of chapters, so keep reading.**

**Sgdp1261 - those songs are both amazing and probably very appropriate for this story. And thank you, I'm glad you liked the chapter.**

**KoosGID - rest assured, you will find out how the murder happened in the next few chapters.**

**Runawaybaby555 - aw, thank you. Sorry for all the turmoil, although I'm kind of proud that I can evoke such reactions.**

**Okay. Onto the chapter. This is one of my favorites, so please review and let me know what you think.**

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**February 8****th**

To say that Spencer was heartbroken was an understatement. It wasn't just her heart that had broken, but her whole _being_. It had been a week since she'd found Aria, and she hadn't let slip a single smile since then. Hanna and Emily weren't sure how to act around her; they wanted to be comforting but not suffocating, and they weren't sure how to find the balance. She would shrug off their condolences, ignore their questions, and refuse the food they brought her.

"You're wasting away, Spence," Hanna said. They'd turned up at Spencer's house with some Chinese takeout, which they'd set up on the table in front of her. But she was sitting on the couch, legs tucked under her, hands clasped in her lap, staring at nothing. She didn't even look at the food.

"Please eat something," Emily pleaded. She grabbed the nearest box, opened it, and held it out.

Spencer glanced at it, then looked away. She was wearing an oversized grey sweatshirt, one that made her look pale and washed-out. She wasn't wearing any makeup, and it looked like she hadn't brushed her hair in days.

Emily sat down on one side of her and Hanna on the other, and they stayed quiet for a few minutes, hoping their friend would open up. But she didn't. If anything she became more closed off. It wasn't a visible thing; it was more that they could sense her shrinking away, falling into herself until she wasn't even aware of their presence.

"The funeral's tomorrow," Hanna said gently.

"I know." Those were the first words she'd spoken in three days. They had also been the last words she had ever said to Aria.

They'd been on the phone that afternoon, while Spencer was at the store. She'd called Aria to find out if she wanted flavored or buttered popcorn, and to her surprise the girl had actually answered. She'd even cracked a couple of jokes, and Spencer could hear the smile in her voice. Then Aria had sighed, so softly that Spencer almost missed it.

"What's wrong?" she'd asked.

"Nothing's wrong," Aria had replied. "I just… you know I care about you, right?"

"Of course." Spencer transferred the phone to her other ear and reached for a bag of chips.

"And I'm glad I have you in my life."

"I'm glad I have you too, babe."

"I've gotta go now. But remember that I love you."

"I know." She'd started to say something else, to add that she loved her too and she missed her already, but Aria had already hung up.

"Talk to me," Emily said softly.

Spencer blinked, and then her eyes shifted over to her friend. But they were unfocused, like she wasn't entirely there.

"Where'd you go just now?" Emily asked.

"You looked kind of… spacey," Hanna added.

Spencer shrugged. She reached out, and the girls held their breath in excitement, but her hand went toward one of the chopsticks and not the food. She picked it up and used it to trace the veins on her arm, while the other two watched in horror.

"Relax," she said, letting the chopstick fall to the floor. No one made any move to pick it back up. "I'm not going to do that."

"Do you promise?" Hanna asked.

She didn't answer. She was falling back into herself, blocking out her friends and the world. The world that had stolen her love from her, that had smashed her heart into a hundred million pieces. The world that had been so harsh and cruel that Aria had thought oblivion would be a better option. She was starting to see her point now.

"Please, Spence," Emily said, placing her hand comfortingly over her friend's. "I don't want to lose you."

Spencer didn't have the heart to tell her that she already had.

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	27. It was a start

**Thanks for the great feedback last chapter. You guys are awesome. Apologies for all the shattered hearts, but to be fair I did warn you. You all knew what you were getting yourselves into. :p**

**Runawaybaby555 - I hope that helped repair your Sparia heart a little... or was it even more sad because then they could maybe have had a future if fate hadn't intervened? ;)**

**ihavealifeiswear - if you've finished sobbing now, hope you enjoy the next chapter. It's not TOO sad, I hope.**

**Sgdp1261 - tragedy is pretty heavy, so occasionally I do like to throw in something to lighten the mood a bit. Buuut, now we're back to the sadness.**

**insertnameherex - I'm glad I'm converting you to being a tragedy-lover. Chances are I'll be writing a lot more of it in the future, so maybe I'll see you in some of my other stories later on. As for my age, I'm curious as to what you guys all think. So review with your guesses and I MAY tell you if you're right. ;)**

**KooshGID - thanks for the review, as always. You're always so lovely and I really appreciate your words.**

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**February 14****th**

McDonald is on his fifth cup of coffee. By now he's so tired that he's even putting up with the vending machine stuff. Hanna and Emily are both sipping their own coffee, but he has a feeling it's more to give them something to do than because they want the caffeine hit. If he were in their place he wouldn't want to be awake.

Hanna takes a sip of her coffee, then wraps her hands around it to warm them up. "We tried to help," she says. "After… the funeral was hard. She wouldn't leave her bed for days."

"We weren't sure she wanted us there," Emily adds, setting her coffee aside and giving it a look of displeasure. "But we didn't want her to be alone."

He nods, encouraging them to go on. The tears have stopped and although they both still look absolutely haggard, they seem calmer. They keep leaning against each other for support, both literally and metaphorically. They'd been holding hands a few moments ago, and when the coffee had come Emily rested her hand on Hanna's shoulder, as if worried that if she wasn't touching her, the other girl would be torn away from her too. They'd already lost two friends, and they were doing everything they could not to lose each other. He wonders if there's something more between them, but doesn't ask; it's none of his business.

"She kept pushing us away. And we understood why, but… it still hurt," Hanna says. "We finally got her to agree to leave the house. We didn't want her to be alone on Valentine's day, not when… you know, she was alone."

"There was this party," Emily goes on. "Hanna and I were going together – it's our first Valentine's Day as a couple - but we didn't want to leave Spencer by herself. Eventually she agreed to come with us, but she was only going to stay for an hour or so."

"It was a start, right?" Hanna seems unsure, like she's hoping he'll tell her that they did the right thing, that this isn't their fault.

"So she came to the party with you," McDonald says, making a note in his book. And so there _is_ something between the girls. They're heading towards the conclusion of the story, and now he might be able to piece together what happened tonight. Or rather, how it happened. He knows what Spencer did, and he knows why, where, and when. All that's missing is the _how_. "What happened then?"

"She didn't stay long. We tried to make her feel welcome, even though she didn't know most of the people," Hanna says. "I lost track of her for a bit. I don't know where she went…"

"She came back looking really upset though," Emily adds. "I mean, I guess it was the whole Valentine's Day thing. We probably shouldn't have brought her."

She gives the impression that she'd cry if she wasn't so tired. Instead she just stares at her hands, and he wonders if she's counting her sins or her shortcomings. That's what he'd be doing in her position. But he knows this isn't her fault. Hanna seems to understand this as well, because she leans her head on Emily's shoulder and rests her hand on her friend's. Emily appreciates the gesture of comfort, but it doesn't seem to do much to ease her guilt.

"What did you do once you found her again?"

"She said she wasn't feeling well and that she was going home," Hanna responds slowly, not looking at him. She's looking at their hands, at the way Emily's fingers fit neatly between hers. "We offered to taker her – we didn't want her to be alone. But she said she'd be fine."

"I knew we shouldn't have let her go," Emily bursts out, as if she could have somehow prevented this.

"You didn't know," he says comfortingly. Emily quietens, but she'd still close to tears. He decides it's best to do this quickly, like ripping off a bandaid. "So she left after that?"

"Yeah," Hanna says, and Emily nods.

"But you girls were with her when she…" He doesn't want to say it, but he knows it's best to be explicit at this point. "… when she murdered Mason Winters. How did you end up there?"

"She said she'd call when she got home, but she didn't," Hanna says. "We waited for about twenty minutes, but she didn't call. We were worried something was wrong, so we called her. When she answered she told us where she was, at the diner across from the gas station. She said she was okay, that she was just having some dinner and trying to clear her head, but we were still concerned. So we went over there."

"And what did you see when you arrived?"

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**Suspenseeee. Don't worry, the next chapter will be up tomorrow. :)**


	28. February 14, Part I

**Guys, this is how much I love you. It's freezing outside and I'm really tired, but I got up early just to post this chapter because the Internet's going to be down later. I have class very soon though so I don't have time to respond to every one of your reviews like I usually do, but I'll do that next chapter. Rest assured that I read and appreciated all of them (and there were so many of them, thank you all!).**

**So here's the next chapter. Don't forget to review. Oh. There's some kind of harsh/possibly triggering language in this chapter (the reason why I originally rated this story M), so if you're upset by it please stop reading/PM me/go talk to someone.**

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**February 14****th**

The diner was warm and bright, a sharp contrast to the coldness of the night outside. The smell of chilli fries and ketchup washed over Spencer, and she wondered idly how long it had been since she'd eaten. An almost aggressively friendly waitress came over and delivered her coffee to her. She mumbled a 'thank you' and watched as the waitress walked away, then picked it up and took a sip. It was so hot it burned her tongue, but she didn't care. She was beyond feeling by now.

Going to the party had been a bad idea. She'd known that from the start, but Emily and Hanna had been so insistent. The only way to get them to ease up a bit was to agree to go with them, even though she knew it wouldn't end well. They were worried about her because it was Valentine's Day, because it was so soon after Aria's death, because she was distant and closed-off and wouldn't talk to them.

She was worried about herself too, but in a different way. She was worried that she would carry this burden with her forever, that she would never be able to move on. But she was also worried that the guilt would ease, that she'd be able to keep going. She didn't deserve to live her life, not when she'd failed Aria. So she spent every waking moment forcing herself to think about what had happened, reminding herself that she hadn't been good enough, contemplating all the things she should have done differently. As long as she kept thinking about it, she wouldn't have to say goodbye.

There were a few couples spread around the diner. They were the ones who hadn't been organized enough to get reservations anywhere fancier, or the ones who'd been together so long that it didn't matter where they went because it was just another day to them. This would have been her first Valentine's Day with Aria. As she thought of that, she realized how wrong it was to be in the diner. She shouldn't be somewhere so comfortable, so colorful. She should be sitting vigil by Aria's grave, in the growing darkness and the freezing cold, on her knees begging for forgiveness.

She got to her feet, tossed a five dollar bill on the table, and headed for the door. She was almost there when she heard laughter break out from one of the booths; it was a loud, raucous sound, and it startled her so much that she turned around to see who was capable of such a noise. He was sitting across from an attractive blonde girl, his hand around a cup of coffee, a huge smile on his face. She noticed all that, but she also saw the glint in his eyes, that predatory hunger.

Without any conscious thought her feet started moving toward the booth, and by the time she came to her senses she was standing in front of him. He looked up at her, curious, but there was no recognition in his eyes.

"Yes?" he asked curtly, while the blonde-haired woman raised her eyebrows. "Is there something you want?"

Spencer let out a bark of laughter. "Something I want? Of course there's something I want. I want to be able to sleep at night without having nightmares. I want to be able to walk to my room without being scared of what's lurking in the shadows. I want to be able to smile and be happy and just be a normal college student. But you know what I want more than that? I want my girlfriend back. I want her to be _alive_."

Her voice had been growing louder and stronger, and now a few people were staring. Let them stare. She had nothing left to lose.

"I'm sorry?" he said. It wasn't an apology, because he still didn't know who she was. He didn't even recognize her. He was just trying to get her to go away.

"Aria," she said, pain shooting through her heart as she said the name. "You remember her, right? She was cute, petite, brunette. You raped her and then left her lying there in an alley. And you know what? She's _dead_!"

His eyes widened, and she knew that at last he understood who she was. But he didn't show any signs of remorse. If anything he seemed irritated.

"She killed herself," Spencer went on, her voice hard despite the tears that were spilling down her cheeks. "Two weeks ago she slit her wrists because she couldn't stand to live in a world with scumbags like you."

He opened his mouth, shooting a glance at the girl across from him. Spencer didn't know what he was going to say, but she didn't care. Nothing he said would bring Aria back.

"No," she snapped, her body visibly trembling with rage. "_No_. You do not get to sit here and have a nice Valentine's Day dinner with your girlfriend of the week when the love of my life is _dead_ because of you."

"Mason, what's going on?" the woman asked.

He took a sip of his coffee, watching Spencer calmly. "It's nothing, Susie," he said. Then he turned his attention back to Spencer. "You're making a scene. Shall we discuss this outside?"

All logic in her told her that this was the downright stupidest thing she could do, but she was running on emotion and nervous energy. She followed him outside, hearing the bell over the door jangle as they stepped into the cold night. He looked her up and down, that same hungry look in his eyes.

She took a moment to compose herself, weighing the pros and cons of every course of action. And then, very deliberately, she slapped him across the face as hard as she could.

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	29. A few more details

**Guys, we are so close to the end. After this chapter there are only two more left. I can't believe how much support this story has garnered from all of you, and I can't thank you enough for it. As those of you who've been keeping up with my story 'A is for Arlene' will know, I've decided that as soon as I get 100 reviews on this story I will post the next chapter. That's right, two chapters in a day if you review quick enough. Just as a reward to you guys for sticking with me through this (and because I feel like last chapter was a let down because it didn't resolve anything... but next chapter will give you what you've all been waiting for; I can only hope you enjoy it). Sidenote: this is the last appearance of Emily and Hanna in this story. Anyway. Enjoy!**

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**February 14****th**

At this point Emily does start crying again, silent sobs that wrack her body, and even Hanna looks teary-eyed.

"When we got there she was arguing with him outside," Hanna replies. "They were at the gas station, but we'd parked at the diner, so we were too far away to hear what was happening. But it looked very heated. She was crying, and he was…"

She turns to Emily for help.

"He looked like he was… making a move on her," Emily says, looking like she feels sick. "We could see her push him away, but he kept moving closer to her. At one point I think he… it looked like he was going to kiss her."

"She didn't want to," Hanna goes on. "But he had her backed up against a wall. She kept shoving at him, but he was too strong. As soon as we realized what was happening we got out of the car and tried to go over to them, but the traffic lights must have changed because there was suddenly this, like, flood of traffic."

"We couldn't get through," Emily says in between sobs. "I don't know what happened while all the cars were going past, but by the time we finally managed to get across, Spencer was…"

She dissolves into a mess of tears and unintelligible mumbling, and he lets Hanna comfort her. Once she seems in control again, McDonald prompts, "She was what?"

"S-stabbing him," Hanna replies, her voice shaking. She looks somehow distant, as if she's still hoping this is all some kind of dream. "We finally got across to her, and we tried to pull her off…"

Emily looks up again, running a finger along a scratch on her cheek, her eyes dull and slightly unfocused. She doesn't seem to be aware of what she's doing.

"Did Spencer do that to you?" McDonald asks.

Emily's hand freezes, and then she carefully lowers it to her lap. She also lowers her gaze as she hesitantly nods. He offers her a sympathetic look, which of course she doesn't see. He's come across this before; murders can be very emotional, especially when, as in Spencer's case, they had a connection to the victim. She was probably running on overwrought emotion, and when they tried to pull her away she lashed out instinctively.

"What's going to happen to her now?" Hanna turns watery eyes on him, and he feels his heart breaking for her. These poor girls have been through hell, and it isn't over yet.

"Well, they're going to go through all the evidence, then there'll be a trial," he says. "The judge will make a verdict, and…"

He trails off, the meaning of his words clear. Most likely she'll be convicted and have to serve time. It doesn't sound like she acted in self-defence, although it wasn't really premeditated.

"I need to get a few more details," he says, and Hanna nods wearily. "Did you see him physically hurt her?"

"I… I think." Hanna seems uncertain, and Emily doesn't offer any more information. "He was being pretty rough. I think he was… he did shove her a couple times. She was up against the wall, and every time she'd try to move he'd push her back. Does… does that count?"

He makes a note of this in his notebook. "It might," he says. "Can you tell me anything else?"

She shakes her head; the effort of saying even this much seems to have exhausted her. He knows they're reaching the end of their tolerance, and to push them any further would probably only make things worse.

"Thank you for your cooperation, girls," he says, getting to his feet. "My partner, Delaney, will be out here shortly to discuss some details with you. Then you'll be free to go."

They mumble vague farewells, and he walks across the room, tossing his empty coffee cup in the trash as he goes. He stands outside the interrogation room door for a moment, steeling himself for the final leg of his journey. Then he opens the door and steps through.

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**Once again, thank you so much for your support, guys. I never expected this story to become so popular and it really makes me happy that it has. Shoutouts this chapter to ihavealifeiswear, KooshGID, Sgdp1261, insertnameherex, and Runawaybaby555 - you guys are such consistent reviewers, and without your kind words this story may not have ever been finished, let alone updated daily. Seriously, thank you; much love to you all.**


	30. February 14, Part II

**There we have it, the magic number. Shoutout to Sgdp1261 for being my 100th reviewer on this story - I was kind of hoping it'd be you. ;) Also thank you to Runawaybaby555 and JR who helped me get those last few reviews. Thank you for your kind words, and I realllly hope you like the chapter.  
So before we get into this chapter I want to point out that action scenes are probably my weak point, so I'm sorry if this isn't worth the hype. But still, read and review, let me know what you think. This chapter was actually pretty fun to write; Mason is a total creep, which prompts the emergence of what I like to call 'Badass Spencer'. And now, here's what you've been waiting for...**

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**February 14****th**

He didn't move, but something in his eyes changed. If Spencer hadn't been running on righteous fury the darkness that came across his face would have caused her to take a step back. But she was too far gone to be scared, so she met his gaze steadily. She couldn't see it, but there was an almost matching darkness in her own eyes; hers stemmed from grief over the loss of Aria, but his was just a part of him. Darkness was his nature, and he didn't think twice about it.

"Settle, sweetheart," he said, leaning closer to her.

She forced herself not to step back, balling her hand into a fist by her side. He noticed her doing so, and it made him smile. It was the same kind of smile he'd had the night he hurt Aria, before Spencer had interrupted him. He was looking at her like she was his property, like he had every right for his eyes to be roaming all over her body like they were. It made her skin prickle.

"Back off," she spat.

"Ooh, kitty cat has claws," he crooned.

"You wanna see?" she asked, and without giving him a chance to answer she slammed her fist into his face.

He staggered backward, and then he looked up at her, his eyes alight even as his hand flew to his face to stop the blood pouring from his nose. He straightened, wiping the blood off with the back of his hand. "I like a girl with spirit," he said.

Spencer was livid. He'd been the cause of Aria's suicide, and he didn't regret it. He didn't feel the slightest shred of guilt or remorse, while she spent every day dealing with those very same feelings. And now on top of that, he was making a move on her. It made her feel sick, and when he leaned in again, his eyes flickering from her breasts to her lips, she actually thought she might throw up.

"You're a creep," she said. All the fight was draining out of her; she wasn't scared, not yet, but she wasn't interested in this conversation anymore. She turned around, suddenly needing to be anywhere but there.

He grabbed her arm, jolting both her feet and her heart to a stop. She jerked her arm out of his grip and kept walking, not daring to look back. As she darted across the road she heard footsteps behind her and knew he was following. She broke into a run and heard the footsteps speed up. As she reached the gas station across the road – it was the most public place without going back to the diner – he caught up to her, grabbing her arm and spinning her around to face him. She found herself staring into his cold eyes as he pushed her up against the wall.

"Just be quiet," he murmured. "It'll be over quick."

She was scared now.

"No," she said as he pressed his lips against hers. "_No_."

She wrenched her head away, shoving at his chest until he took a step backward. But he was back before she had time to take a breath. For a moment she wanted to give up, to let him do what he needed to do. Maybe then she could be with Aria.

But even as she thought that, a picture of Aria floated up in her mind. Sweet, innocent Aria. He had hurt her, and he didn't deserve to get away with it. They'd followed the right procedures, gone to the police, filed reports, and he'd gotten away with just a slap on the wrist. It wasn't right.

"Get off of me." She shoved him again, and was surprised to find that she was crying. She thought she heard someone shout her name, but when she turned her head all she could see was a stream of traffic.

He reached for her again and, unbidden, her hand flew out, connecting with his nose again. Instinctively he went to punch her, but she was just a little too quick. She ducked her head, hearing the satisfying thud as his hand hit the wall. He let out a low moan and a string of curses, and she used this distraction to slip around him and start moving away. But he wasn't letting her go that easily.

As he grabbed her shoulder she spun around and grabbed his arm, trying to drag him to the ground. He was too strong, and he ended up knocking her to the dirt; but she didn't let go, so he fell down almost on top of her. She tried to scramble away, but he straddled her and pinned her to the ground. She was crying so hard she could barely breathe, and she couldn't see anything more than blurry figures through her tears.

But she could see the glint of a knife; she didn't know where he'd gotten it, and she didn't care. All she knew was that the sight of that bright metal awakened some primal instinct in her. She took a mental step back, allowing instincts to take over. Her hands and feet moved almost of their own accord, battering him from all sides until he had no choice but to relax his hold on her. Then she bucked under him, using her body weight to throw him off her.

Without giving him time to react she straddled him, wrapping her hands around his neck. She didn't know what she was trying to do, but she knew she didn't want him to get up. But he still had the knife, and he thrust it upwards. She sucked in her stomach, the knife missed by less than an inch, and then she abandoned her grip on his neck in favor of grabbing his hands.

They fought for control of the knife, her muscles trembling with the effort of trying to overpower him. She didn't have the brute strength, but she did have the wit. She let her grip slacken, just enough to make him think she was tiring, and she used that split second advantage to gain control. He was still reaching for, and there was no time to get away. But now she had the knife, so she had the power.

She plunged it into his chest, trying not to wince as he let out an animal-like bellow. Blood spurted up beneath her hands, but she kept holding on until she saw the light fade from his eyes. Then all her strength vanished and she let herself topple sideways, collapsing on the ground as she sobbed and screamed the one word that she could clearly remember, the same word her heart was screaming.

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	31. Uneasy Redemption

**Hey everyone. I'm sorry it took a while to get this last chapter up; I just wanted to make sure it was good enough. I'm still not entirely satisfied with it, but I hope you guys like it. Massive shoutout to Runawaybaby555 for helping me out with the ending. And thank you everyone who's read, favorited, followed, and, most of all, reviewed this story. I am so thrilled at the reaction this story has received, and I will definitely be writing more Sparia stories in the future. I'm also working on a lot of other pieces at the moment, so if you liked this you may want to keep an eye on my page. (If you like dark, keep an eye out for ****_Darkness_****, the Wren x Spencer story I'm going to publish this week.) That's all I have to say this chapter, other than: enjoy.**

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**February 14****th**

McDonald sits down across from Spencer, who looks more distant than she did before. She meets his eyes, but she seems faraway; he wonders what she's been thinking about while he was gone, and then he checks himself. He doesn't want to know.

"Are you feeling any better?" he asks, opening up the file and looking at the crime scene photos again.

She considers him for a moment, deciding at last that he deserves her honesty. "I'm okay," she says. "Everything's… it's starting to settle down, in my mind… you know?"

He nods, still perusing the report. All the pieces of the puzzle have been set in place now, by Spencer and Emily and Hanna, supplemented by the report. He understands why she did it, and how. The _where_ and the _when_ were never in doubt. So the only question remaining is the _what_, as in, _What happens now?_

Spencer must be thinking the same thing, because she lowers her gaze to her lap, where she's fiddling with the hem of her dress, and asks softly, "So you know what happened?"

He looks up and closes the file. Then he steeples his fingers and surveys her, this damaged survivor of an almost-love-story. "I do," he says. "But for the sake of thoroughness, could you run me through the details? If you're up to it, of course…"

She seems to have composed herself during the time he was with Hanna and Emily, because instead of bursting into tears or switching off, she only takes a deep breath and begins to speak. He jots down a few notes as she does, but mostly it's what the others told him.

Spencer talks about how she fell in love with Aria, who didn't feel the same. How she tried to make things work, even though she knew deep down that she'd never get her happy ending. She stumbles over the story of how Mason raped Aria (although she can't quite force herself to say the word 'rape'), and practically got away with it. She does start crying again as she explains how Aria never recovered, how she slipped away from them and eventually ended her life (he notices that she can't quite bring herself to say the word 'suicide' either).

After a pause to regain control of her breathing, she recounts what happened tonight, how she left the party early and went to the diner, how she ran into Winters there and confronted him. How she tried to get away but he followed her. How they fought, and she ended up stabbing him.

McDonald tries to figure out her emotions; there's a hint of regret dulling her voice, and beyond that something close to disbelief, but she seems more tired than anything. He feels for her, but he's still here to do a job. Once she finishes he tries to comfort her, but she's very unreceptive. She's shutting down again, and he has a feeling this time it's for good. The truth is out, but it's not going to bring her girlfriend back. She has nothing left to fight for, and that's made her a broken person.

He knows that broken people can be repaired, and he sincerely hopes that Spencer will be one of those cases. Behind the weariness and the lingering shock, he senses that there is still a spark. If she can hold onto that, maybe she has a chance. He says as much to her as he leaves, hoping it will encourage her to keep fighting.

But he doesn't know that as soon as he leaves she slumps down in her chair, giving up any last hope of a future. He doesn't see the light fading from her eyes as she reminds herself of all that she's lost. And nobody knows that in that moment, in that one single instant when she lets herself feel the full force of everything that's happened, a part of her dies. It's the part that allows her to feel joy, hope, love. She pictures it departing, like a butterfly caught in the wind, and she knows that she will never be whole again.

And she knows, she's always known, that she will never get her happy ending. What's worse is that this isn't even an ending at all. Her life is effectively over already, but she's going to have to wake up every morning with a hole in her heart, that gaping metaphorical chasm where Aria should be. She's going to have to live every day knowing she never gave her enough of a reason to stay, that she didn't fight hard enough for her, that she let her slip away. She will spend her whole life blaming herself for something the logical part of her brain knows was not her fault. But that part is still on vacation, and she has a feeling the rest of her mind will be joining it soon.

_Won't you take me to a higher ground?  
__I need to see again the way I'm bound  
and choose the uneasy redemption,  
run by fear and the flaws of attraction._

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**So there you have it. Hope you enjoyed, and don't forget to review. Maybe I'll see you guys over in some of my other stories? ;)**


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